

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, 


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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 










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Stirring Stonrl 


BY THE AUTHOR OF THE 


JACOBS 


ORIGINAL 


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J. S. OGILVIE, Publisher 

57 Rose Street, New York; 

79 Wabash Avenue, Chicago. 


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Fireside Series, No, 42, Double Number. Price, 50 cents. May, 1888. Copyright, 1888, by J. S. Ogilvie. 

Entered at the New York Post-office as second-class matter. 








IF YOU WANT TO 


Build a House 

DON’T FAIL TO BUY 

Ogilvie’s House Plans. 

It contains plans and specifications for all kinds of houses 
costing from $500 to $5,000, and is just as valuable as most books 
that cost $5.00. 

It will be sent by mail postpaid to any address on receipt of 
mUy 25 cents* Sold by all booksellers or address all orders to 

J. S. OGILVIE, Publisher, 

57 HOSE ST., NEW TOEK 


P. O. Box 2m 




\ FOR 





HIS BROTHER’S SAKE 




■i 






BY THE AUTHOR OF 


The Original Mr. Jacobs. 






COTTRIGHT, 1888, BT .T. S. OqIBVIB. 



J. S. OGILVIE, PUBLISHBR. 

57 Rom Stbbkt, New York; 79 Wabash At*., Chicaso. 


Xjisrr OT' Booirs 

THE FIRESIDE SERIES. 

VNIFORm WITH THIS BOOK. 

No. 

1. The Mohawks, by Miss M. E. Braddon. 

2. Lady Valworth’s Diamonds, by The Duchess. 

3. A House Party, by Ouida. 

4. At Bay, by Mrs. Alexander. 

5. Adventures of an Old Maid, by Belle C. Greene. 

6. Vice Versa, by F. Aiistey. 

7. In Prison and Out, by Hesba Stretton. 

8. A Broken Heart, by author of Dora Thorne. 

9. A False Vow, by author of Dora Thorne. 

10. Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, b^^ Nancy Harts- 

11. Beaton’s Barg’ain, by Mrs. Alexander. [horn. 

12. Mrs. Hopkins on her Travels, by Mrs. Hopkins. 

13. A Guilty River, by Wilkie Collins. 

14. By Woman’s Wir, by Mrs. Alexander. 

15. *‘She,” by H. Rider Haggard. 

16. The Witch’s Head, by H. Rider Haggard. 

17. King Solomon’s Mines, by H. Rider Haggard. 

18. Jess,” by H. Rider Haggard. 

19. The Merry Men, by R. L. Stevenson. 

20. Miss Jones’ Quilting, by Josiah Allen’s Wife. 

21. Secrets of Success, by J. W. Donovan. 

22. Drops of Blood, by Lily Curry. 

23. Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. 

24. Dawn, by H. Rider Haggard. 

25. ‘‘Me.” A companion to “ She.” 

26. East Lynne, by Mrs. Henry Wood. 

27. Allan Quatermain, by H. Rider Haggard. 

28. Brother against Brother, by John R. Musick. 

29. A Modern Circe, by the Duchess. 

30. As in a Looking-Glass, by F. C. Philips. 

31. Paradise Almost Lost, by D. B. Shaw. 

32. The Duchess, bj’' The Duchess. 

33. In Thraldom, by Leon Mead. 

34. The Bad Boy and His Sister, by Benjamin Broada? ^ 

35. A Tale of Three LiOns, by H. Rider Haggard. 

^ 36. History of United States, by Emery E. Childs. 

37. Mona’s Choice, by Mrs. Alexander. 

38. One Traveler Returns, by David Christie Murray 


FOR HIS BROTHER’S SAKE 

« 


PART FIRST. 


CHAPTEK I. 

On the 20th of November, 18Y-, at about six 
o’clock in the evening, a hired cab stopped in 
front of a certain club-house in Paris, and a well- 
dressed man jumped out, signed to the driver to 
go away and hurried into the house. 

Having, with the aid of the attendants, divested 
himself of his overcoat, he went into a large 
apartment which was almost deserted, and from 
this passed at once into the room given over to 
baccarat, where nearly aU the members of the 
club were gathered. The new comer was almost 
in the prime of life, tall, and of a dark complexion. 

“There is the Count de Bussine,” said one 
member. 

“I knew he would come,” said another, “for he 


4 


mu BI8 mOTBEBB bake. 


lost heavily last night ; he hopes to repair his losses, 
I suppose.” The last speaker’s name was Amelin, 
and his companion was Laflens, a very clever 
young lawyer, Avhose prospects in life would have 
been brilliant but for his love of high play. 

‘‘ I do not belive that his luck will change,” said 
Laflens ; “ if he takes the deal, I shall go for him.” 

« Why, you vowed yesterday that you would 
never play again,” cried Amelin. 

“ Yes,” said the other drily ; “ but I have releas- 
ed ’myself from that oath,” and leaving his compa- 
nion he sauntered toward the table. 

There were to be a great many players that 
night, for, behind those occupying the usual twelve 
chairs, men were standing three and four deep, 
all crowding toward the table, eager to see the 
cards, and throw down their stakes. The board 
was covered with counters both red and white, 
made of mother-of-pearl, of ivory, or of common 
bone, some representing fifty louis^ some twenty- 
five, some a hundred francs.^ and others only one 
louis. Gold, silver, and bank notes were also to 
be seen ; but of these there were not many, for 
most players preferred to buy counters before the 
game began and have them exchanged again for 
money when it was over. 

This transformation of gold into ivory, and of 
paper into mother-of-pearl, was a very convenient 
arrangement for all parties, as it simplified the 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


5 


counting of the stakes and made the game go very 
fast. It also had the effect of increasing the 
amount of the stakes, for it seems a less serious 
matter to throw down a handful of counters than 
to risk a banknote — although one Imows that the 
two values are identical. 

Just as the Count de Bussine came into the 
rQom, the banker seated himself at the table and 
said in a loud voice: 

Your stakes, gentlemen.” 

This was followed by a deluge of counters of all 
denominations, and then the Count asked sud- 
denly : 

‘‘ How much is there in the bank?”. 

As much as you wish,” was the reply ; the 
bank fs open.” 

‘‘Then I stake five hundred said the 

Count in an agitated voice ; and as he spoke he 
took from his i^ocketbook ten 1,000 franc notes 
and threw them down on the table. 

“Ho more bets,” said the banker.” 

“Ho more bets!” echoed the croupier obed- 
iently. 

The banker now dealt two cards toThe right, 
two the left, and then two to himself. There 
were nearly fortythousand francs on the table, 
and a sudden silence followed the eager chatter- 
ing of the players, for all felt that the game was ^ 
yer^^ important on^. 


6 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


The banker looked cautiously at his hand and 
then said : 

“I will give cards;” and the others breathed 
more freely, knowing that he had neither an 
eight spot nor a nine. The tableau on which de 
Bussine had staked refused cards, but the other 
side did not and was awarded a court card, and 
then the banker hesitated a minute. All the 
players watched him anxiously, wondering what 
he would do. 

“ What are the stakes ? ” he asked of the crou- 
pier, who glanced around rapidly and replied: 

‘‘About eighty thousand francs on the first 
tableau., fifteen thousand on the other.” 

“ I will draw,” said the banker, and turned up 
a three spot. 

“ I am eight ! ” he cried, showing his hand. 
Both sides had lost, and all the counters and 
money including de Bussine’ s bank notes were 
swept away by the croupier’s rake. 

“Did you stake?” asked Amelin of the law- 
yer. 

“1^0, thank Heaven,” replied Lafiens “I was 
just going to risk a few louis when I saw de Bus- 
sine lay down his ten thousand francs, and as I 
have great faith in his ill-luck I quietly put my 
money back in my pocket. 1 will only play 
against that mail 5 1 will wait upfil b§ tak^s th(? 


FOR HI8 BROTHERS SAKE, 


7 


You will not wait long, the bank is going to 
be put up at auction, and he is sure to bid.” It 
was true, for after a few more passes the cards 
were exhausted and sweeping the money into a 
large basket left the table. The croupier immed- 
iately opened a new pack of cards and put the 
bank up at auction; after a few bids it was 
awarded to de Bussine, who took the banker’s 
place, drew out two more thousand franc notes 
from his pocketbook, and then proceeded to deal. 
At first he was very lucky, more than doubling 
the amount of his bank ; but soon this was entirely 
changed, and he lost so much that he was obliged 
to replenish the bank. His face grew paler and 
paler, his eyes became fixed, his lips parched, 
so that he could hardly speak. If his adversaries 
had been capable of pity they would have been 
sorry for him ; but they only laughed and talked, 
rattling their counters as they gathered them in, 
like a flock of crows cawing and chattering around 
a corpse. At last the banker won a trifling sum, 
and at that moment a servant leaned over him 
and said that some one wanted him in the ante- 
room. 

‘‘Leave me alone ! ” cried the banker, furiously; 
but in a few minutes the man returned with a 
message hastily written on a scrap of paper. 

Come home, your wife is dying,” it read, 


g FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE, 

de Bussine glanced at it and then said to the ser- 
vant : 

“ Tell him to go, I will follow him.” 

The person who brought the message to the 
Count and awaited his reply was named Petit- 
homme (Littleman), and never was name less ap- 
propriate to its owner. Mr. Petit-homme was as 
tall as a drum-major, with broad, square shoulders, 
herculean limbs, and feet and hands in propor- 
tion. But, strange to say, his head was as small 
as a child’s, and was ornamented with tiny ears, 
eyes and nose, and from his tiny mouth issued 
a thin, shrill voice. When he spoke, it seemed 
as if his voice had been sonorous enough when 
starting, but having such a long journey from his 
chest to his mouth had become weak and ex- 
hausted on the way. But in spite of these pecuhari- 
ties, he was a very imposing sight, and when he 
declared his intention of forcing his way to the 
Count de Bussine's presence, the servants of the 
club thought that it would be easier to carry his 
message than to prevent his entrance into the 
card-room. When he heard^ in reply to his Avrit- 
ten appeal, that he was to go home and the Count 
would soon follow him, he hesitated, and seemed 
halt inclined to carry out his threat ; but, like most 
giants, Mr. Petit-homme was as mild in disposi- 
tion as a lamb — or as his own voice. He was 
naturally timid, and knowing his gre^t strengthj 


FOR HIS BROTHER’S SAKE. 


9 


stood in constant dread of breaking something or 
hurting some one if he allowed himself to get ex- 
cited. 

So, prudently making no further remark, he 
turned on his great heel and left the clubhouse, to 
the no small relief of the attendants, and, on 
reaching the street, looked about him for a cab. 
Suddenly, however, he pulled out his watch and, 
seeing that it was an hour after midnight and 
that he would therefore be charged extra fare, he 
decided to walk home. In a short time he reached 
a large apartment-house, and going up to the 
third story, opened a door which was already un- 
locked as if some one were expected. In the hall 
stood his wife, candle in hand. 

“You here yet? ” he exclaimed. 

“Yes, I thought I might be wanted,” replied 
Madame Petit-homme ; “and there was no use in 
my going to bed. I should not be able to sleep 
until you were safe at home, and the oil would 
be wasting.” 

In return for this expression of combined affec- 
tion and economy, Mr. Petit-homme stooped 
toward his wife, took her round the waist in his 
hands, raised her as hghtly as if she were a bunfile 
of straw, and when her face reached the level of his, 
pressed two kisses on her cheek. It would have 
been almost an impossibility for him to stoop as 
, for m her forehead without first lifting her froua. 


10 


FOB ms BROTHERS SAKE, 


the ground, for Caesarina Petit-homme was as 
diminutive in stature as her husband was colossal. 
ITature, when modeling these two beings, must 
have been in a mood for producing contrasts, for 
while giving to Cornelius a large body and a 
small head, she had put upon CaBsarina’s dwarfish 
shoulders an immense head and a wide mouth, 
and had, moreover, completed the joke by endow- 
ing her with a full deep contralto voice. The 
result was that when this strange pair were con- 
versing together, a listener in the next room 
would mistake the shrill, piping voice of the big 
husband for the deep, gruff tones of the little 
wife. 

Since their marriage day thirty-five years ago, 
Cornelius and Caesarina had been a devotedly at- 
tached pair, holding on every subject the same 
opinions, thinking the same thoughts, and obey- 
ing the same will — Caesarina’s will. 

Just as Mr. Petit-homme put his wife down on 
her feet again, a room door opened, and a girl of 
about fifteen years came into the hall. On seeing 
Cornelius she asked eagerly : 

“ Have you found my father ? Why did he not 
come with you ? ’’ 

I do not know. Miss Susanne,’’ replied Corne- 
lius, evasively; “ I suppose he was busy.” 

^‘Busy!” repeated the girl 5 “^ut did joxi tell 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE, 


11 


iLim that mother is very ill, and that she wants 
him at once ? ” 

“ Yes, Miss, I did ; and he will come directly, I 
promise you. He said he would follow me.” 

“ Thanks,” she answered, sadly, and then added, 
“ do go up-stairs now, my good friends. Caesarina 
must be tired out. Go and rest, and if we need 
you again I will send for you.” 

“ Oh no. Miss Susanne, we are very well here. 
What is the use of going to bed, — it will soon be 
morning. Will it not, Cornelius ? ” said Caesarina, 
and her husband echoed her words as was his 
custom. 

Then go into the drawing-room, where it is 
comfortable. There is tea on the table,” said 
Susanne, and bidding them good-night she went 
slowly into the parlor, threw herself into a large 
chair, and burst into tears. 

Her momentary courage and forced self-pos- 
session had left her, for the poor child had never 
known sorrow ‘until now. 

“ I have no father,” she sobbed; for if I had 
he would be here. Mamma will die and I shall 
be all alone — all alone.” 

For a few 'minutes she wept bitterly yet quietly, 
for fear of being heard, and then suddenly her 
tears ceased. Children’s tears, like summer 
showers, are copious, but soon dried, and alwajr^ 
^ith the blue sky just behincl the elou^Sf 


12 


FOn ms BROTHER'S SAKE. 


“ He will come home. He said he would come 
soon,” she told herself reassuringly ; “ and mamma 
will be better to-morrow.” 

Then, seized with a desire to return to her 
mother’s side, she sprang up and, dipping her 
handkerchief into a glass of water that stood on a 
marble table, she went over to a large mirror and 
began bathing her eyes to remove the traces of 
tears. Hever did looking-glass reflect a fairer 
image than the young face of Susanne, in whom 
all the graces of childhood were combined with 
many maidenly charms. Her loose hair, of a warm 
blonde tint, waved and curled about her bright face; 
her delicate features, dimpled cheeks, and great 
blue eyes all gave promise that one day the pretty 
child would be a woman of rare beauty. But 
Susanne was still a child, for in spite of her heavy 
heart and recent tears she did not leave the 
mirror without nodding smilingly at her own 
image. Then becoming sad again, she went on 
tip-toe to the room where her mother lay ill, and 
opened the door softly. 

A man who was seated in an arm chair turned 
toward her and made her a sign not to speak; 
but while she stood not daring to move, a voice 
from the bed exclaimed faintly, “ I am not asleep;” 
adding after a moment, Is that you, George ? ” 
Susanne now -jvent to her mother’s side, saying; 


WB ms BROTEEB’S SAKE, 


13 


“ He has not come yet, mamma, but he said 
he would be here soon.” 

The sick woman sighed wearily, and then said : 

“Lucian, come nearer.” 

The man rose from his chair and took her hand 
gently as he answered : 

“ J am here, Henriette.,” 

“ I must speak with you alone, brother, ” she 
said. “ Susanne go to your room and rest a little. 
I will have you called in an hour, I promise you.” 

The girl, seeing lhat the moment was a solemn 
one, stooped over her mother without speaking, 
pressed a fond kiss upon her forehead, and went 
out of the room with tears springing anew to her 
eyes. 


CHAPTER H. 

As soon as they were alone Lucian began to 
remonstrate gently with the sick woman, remind- 
ing her that the doctor had ordered perfect quiet. 

“ Do not talk now, try to sleep, and if you are 
stronger to-morrow ” 

“ There is no to-morrow for me,” she said ; “ I 
shall die to-night. I feel it coming,” and she laid 
her hand on her chest. “ Another paroxysm like 
the last one will carry me off, and I must speak 
now while I can.” 


14 


FOn MIS BROTHERS SAK^!. 


“ But surely George ought to hear you. Wait 
until he comes.” 

George will not come.” 

‘‘ But they found him and told him that you 
were ill.” 

“ His love for me is not as strong as it is for his 
terrible vice ” 

“ Yice, what vice ? ” 

“ Gambling,” she answered with a sigh. 

“He!” exclaimed the other; ‘my brother 
George a gambler ? ” 

“ Yes, Lucian, and it is that that is killing me.” 

“Why have you never told me before? I 
would have reasoned with him.” 

“ There was no use in distressing you about 
him. You could not have influenced him. I did 
all I could, I entreated him to give it up, and at 
last I even told Susanne to try. She put her arms 
about his neck and in her sweet voice begged him 
to stay at home with us. He stayed, but he was 
restless and unhappy ; and when she had gone to 
bed, he grew nervous and impatient, and at last 
left home in a sort of frenzy and did not come 
back until the next morning. And yet I kept 
hoping for the best. He is not bad, but weak. 
We have been happy together for many years, 
and it is only a few months since he gave way to 
this dreadful passion. He lost money and wished 
to win it back, and our little fortune is gone.” 


POR HIS BROTHHHS SkKI^. 


15 


^^Gonel” said her listener in dismay; ‘‘he has 
lost all your money 

“ IS'ot mine, but Susanne’s — I had nothing,” re- 
plied the mother. “It was the money that you 
made over to him when we married ; you gave 
him all your share of your father’s fortune, you 
loved him so well.” 

“Ah, yes; I loved my poor brother,” said 
“Lucian, not only because he was my brother whom 
I had seen grow up from infancy, and to whom I 
had been a sort of father ; it was not alone for that 
I loved him, but for the sake of one still more 
dear — our mother. I was twenty years old 
when she called me to her bedside, as you have 
called me, and asked me to promise to take care 
of my little brother. She said that she was going 
to meet my father, and that her last moments 
here would be less bitter if I would promise to be 
a father and a mother, a friend and a guardian, to 
her younger boy. I knelt beside her and held 
her hand and promised to devote my life to my 
brother, and if need be to sacrifice myself for him. 
She would have stopped me there, but the oath 
was taken, and I have kept it. I shall keep it to 
the end.” 

In the intensity of his feelings Lucian had al- 
most forgotten his listener, who lay silently 
watching him with a smile of admiration on her 
face. 


10 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


When he stopped speaking, she said, earnestly ; 

‘Won are good and strong and noble. Can you, 
will you, take another oath 

“What is it?” asked the brother-in-law. 

“Like your mother,” she said, speaking with 
greater difficulty, “I ask you to make my last 
moments less bitter by promising me — ,” she put 
her hands to her chest again, then took hold of 
her listener’s hand and said, solemnly, “Promise 
that you Avill love my child as you love your 
brother, and that you will protect her ” 

“I love Susanna already as if she were my 
daughter,” he answered, and then seeing an im- 
ploring look on the mother’s face he added, softly, 
“ and as my mission seems to be to devote myself 
to others, I promise to sacrifice myself, if need be, 
for little Susanne.” 

“ Thanks !” said the dying woman, smiling on 
him radiantly. 

Just then the door opened softly, and Henriette 
looked up, hoping to see at last the husband whom 
she still loved in spite of all. But it was Susanne 
that entered, and her mother laid the girl’s hand 
in Lucian’s, whispering “ Trust to your uncle and 
obey him in all things, my child, he is your noble, 
faithful friend. ” 

Her head fell back on the pillow, and she could 
say no more. 


l^OR ms BROTHER'S SAKE, 


17 


CHAPTEK III. 

While his wife was dying, George de Bussine 
was playing Baccarat. He was just beginning to 
win when Petit-homme came for him, and as it 
was the first time that fortune had smiled on him 
he ^vould not leave. But he soon found that she 
had been only coquetting with him so as to 
induce him to stay, and his entire winnings sud- 
denly disappeared at one stroke. Then he played 
on in desperation, and when his last bank note was 
gone, called on the house to advance him some 
money. This was not refused, although he was 
already in debt, for ho was a good customer, 
always staked high,and kept up the interest of the 
play. As the night wore on the aspect of the 
players was gradually changed ; at first they had 
been very numerous, noisy and animated, making 
a brilliant fascinating scene; — it was a terrible one 
no doubt, yet not devoid of a certain grandeur. 

But when the players grew tired of the excite- 
ment, or were forced to stop for want of funds, 
when the lights began to pale, and the few per- 
sons who remained were silent, heavy-eyed, 
and languid, putting down their stakes and 
gatliering in their gains mechanically, then the 
scene became a sad, a hideous, a loathsome one. 
The Count de Bussine had given up all hope of re- 


l8 


urn BROTHERS sAkH. 


pairing his losses, for the principal winners had 
gone away carrying his money with them, yet he 
played on, his hands cold and stiff, his face livid, 
his teeth set. The other players watched him 
languidly, and kept enriching themselves from his 
losses. They looked more and more like a flock 
of carrion crows bent on devouring a corpse. And 
yet George de Bussine continued to play, for in 
truth he dared not stop. He dreaded to put 
down the cards and reflect upon the night’s do- 
ings, to think of his losses, his utter ruin, to be 
alone with his remorse in the silent, streets at day- 
break. So when a player would have stopped, the 
count exclaimed almost imploringly: 

“A little longer — just one more,” and out of 
pity the game went on. Small tables were brought 
to the winners, and strong hot coffee served by 
the sleepy waiters, but the Chef had long since 
gone to bed, fearing, perhaps, that the luckless 
de Bussine would want to borrow again. At last 
he was entirely cleaned out, as the saying is, not a ' 
remained to *him — the crows had finished up 
the corpse and picked the bones. The players rose 
yawning, put on their overcoats, and dispersed, ^ 
most of them sauntering away without a word, 
but some stopping to speak to de Bussine and con- 
dole with him over his dire bad fortune. 

“ What infernal luck you’ve had to-night,” said 
one ; “you will never play again, I suppose?” 


Pon moviipR’^ sakp. 


10 


Nonsense,” said another, ‘‘ you will make up 
for it to-morrow and then they all left him and 
amused themselves by calculating how much he 
had lost. ♦ 

George de Bussine made no reply to his sym- 
pathizers, and Avhen they had disappeared, got up 
slowly from his seat, took his coat and hat from 
the waiters who stood around longing to see him 
go, and wall^ed out into the street like one in a 
dream. It was a cold morning, and a fine driz- 
zling rain made the sidewalks sticky. De Bussine 
thought of his dying wife, but he had also other 
thoughts in his head and these made him direct 
his steps toward the quay, where the Seine 
awaited him. But suddenly he changed his mind 
and went to his home ; he would see his wife once 
more — ^Ilenriette, with her dying breath would 
pardon him. 

As he entered the room he heard the death 
rattle, but his wife saw him, knew him, and 
opened her lips to speak. He hastened toward 
her, but it was too late. With her glazing eyes 
fixed upon his face, she sighed, and was no more. 

Susanne was kneeling at her mother’s bedside, 
sobbing and praying; her uncle Lucian leaned 
against the chimney-piece, looking from her to 
th^e dead face, and tears of compassion gathered 
in his eyes. A little farther off, George deBussine 
sat with his elbows on his knees and his chin in 


20 


FOR ms BROTHER’S SAKE. 


his hands ; he was looking straight before him 
like one stupified. 

The brothers were very much alike in personal 
appearance, of the same height and figure, the 
same cast of features, and the same gait and bear- 
ing ; so that, although George was more than ten 
years younger than Lucian, they looked to be 
about the same age. I^o doubt George was aged 
by the life he led, the nights of feverish excite- 
ment, the days of dull despair, for the lines in 
his face were deeper, and his whole manner less 
buoyant than his elder brother’s. 

Lucian’s face expressed excessive kindliness of 
heart and warmth of. feeling, joined to steadfast- 
ness of purpose that even amounted to sternness ; 
while in George there was mere soft-heartedness 
and weakness, with no decision of character, no 
self-control. 

A half hour passed and the silence was unbroken, 
save by the sobs of the young girl, and then her 
uncle, raising her gently, bade her go and rest for 
a little while. 

“You may come back as soon as Madame 
Petit-homme has performed her last service for 
your dear mother,” he said, leading her to the 
door. 

Caesarina and another friend of Henriette, were 
waiting in the passage, and when Lucian and 
iSusanne had left the room, George, too, rose hastily 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


21 


and fled as if he feard the cold white face on the 
pillowo The uncle was in the parlor, giving the 
necessary directions to Mr. Petit-homme, and 
George entered the room staggering, and with a 
face of leaden hue. 

Lucian spoke a few words of consolation to his 
brother, and then promised to return directly he 
had left word at the otflce about his enforced 
absence. 

“Your- office — ^you are going to your office 
repeated George, wildly. 

‘‘1 must,” said Lucian, smiling. “A bank 
cashier, you know, is not his own master.” 

The other man dropped almost fainting into a 
chair, and his brother hastened to the bank. 

Lucian had been for many year's connected with 
the Stock Exchange, but his nature was so unsus- 
picious and confiding that he had lost, through 
his clients, large sums of money, and he there- 
fore thought it advisable, to accept the more 
humble position of cashier, which was offered him 
by a banker in the Boulevard Haussmann. He had 
been in this house for two years, and had so far 
won the esteem and confidence of Mr. Kobins, his 
employer, that the latter, when obliged to leave 
Paris, delegated to him full authority in the busi- 
ness of the bank. 

He was now away from home, and therefore 
Lucian thought it necessary to be at his post punc- 


22 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


tually in spite of the death of his brother’s wife. 

He was obliged to stop at his apartment, how- 
ever, to find. his keys, for he had been summoned 
to his sister-in-law’s death-bed so suddenly, the 
day before, that he had left them on his mantel- 
piece, and had not thought of them again. 

As soon as he reached his bachelor’s quarters,” 
his old servant told him that his brother had come 
to see him the night before. 

Why did you not tell him that his wife was 
ill, and that I had gone to her ?” asked Lucian. 

“ I did not know it, sir,” replied the man ; 
“ your brother waited for you a little while and 
then left suddenly, but came back in about an 
hour, stayed a minute or two in the parlor, and 
then went away.” 

Lucian attached but little importance to this 
matter. His brother had called on him at his 
ofiice early in the afternoon to borrow some 
money, but had not succeeded in this ; and so, no 
doubt, had come in the evening to his brother’s 
home to try again. 

Poor fellow, he wants to gamble again,” said 
Lucian, with a sigh ; and then, taking the bunch 
of keys from the mantelpiece, he went to the bank. 

He had not been at his desk many minutes, and 
was reading a letter of instructions from his em- 
ployer, who was in London, when one of the oldest 
employes of the housQ looked in, and exclaimed^ 


FOR Ills BROTHER'S SAKE. 


23 


‘‘You here so early? I though you would be 
late to-day, after working all night.” 

“ I was not here last night,” said the cashier, in 
surprise, and the other said smilingly : 

“ That is strange. I passed here at half-past ten 
and saw you going in ; I would have spoken to 
you but that I had my wife and daughter with 
me.” 

“You must have mistaken some one else 
for me,” said Lucian shaking his head ; and then 
going on with his letter. Old Cabart went away 
muttering, “ Yery strange, very strange. We all 
saw him. But there, what reason could he have 
for denying it ?” 

Mr. Robins, in his letter, informed the cashier 
that he would return home the next day at about 
three in the afternoon, and reminded Lucian that 
there was a payment of 80,000 francs to be made 
the same morning. For this purpose there was 
more than enough money in the safe. The cash- 
ier, as he intended to absent himself from business 
for the rest of the day, thought it would be well 
to get this money ready for the next day, and un- 
locking the safe, he took out a large green port- 
folio and opened it. As he did so his brain reeled. 
The notes were gone ! 

He seized another portfolio from the safe, 
thinking he had put the money in it by mistake, 
but in vain ; he searched through every envelope 


24 : 


FOR ms BROTHER'S SAKE. 


and package, and all over the safe ; there Tvere 
deeds and bills a^nd letters, but the notes were 
gone. Could he have made an error in his 
accounts ? He looked over his books and found 
everything correct; moreover, the rest of the 
money in the safe, gold and silver, was all there 
as he had left it — nothing was missing but the 
banknotes. One hundred thousand francs en- 
tirely gone, vanished from out of that safe of 
which he alone had the key ! How could it have 
been taken ? It was a combination lock, and no 
one knew the word excepting Mr. Eobins and 
. the cashier. Lucian examined the lock thoroughly 
and found it in perfect order; there was not 
the slightest sign of its having been tampered 
with. 


CHAPTEE lY. 

It was evident that some who knew the com- 
bination had opened the safe and taken the money. 
But then it followed that the same person must 
hawe had possession of the key. Mr. Eobins’ 
cashier reflected, and rah over in his mind all the 
employes of the bank, but remembered that he 
himself had been the last person there on the pre- 
vious afternoon, and that he had counted the bank- 


FOR HIS BROTHBR’S SAKE. 


25 


notes, put them in the safe, and locked them up. 
This was done after every one else had gone home, 
and he had then put his key in his pocket and 
gone to his rooms. Who was there who knew 
the combination? Some one may possibly have 
discovered it by accident, but there was no one 
present when he locked the safe; and, besides, who 
could have had the key ? True, Lucian had left 
them behind him in his hurry to go to his sister- 
in-law, but no one exce23t his old servant would 
have seen them, and he did not know the combi- 
ation. Had any one else been in his apartments ? 
Ho one, except his poor brother for a few minutes, 
and certainly no one connected with the bank. 
Lucian pondered^ and suddenly he recollected that 
George had called to see him at the office to borrow 
money, that while he was there the safe was 
not locked, that the combination word was 
plainly visible. Must he suspect his brother? 
Oh for shame, for shame ! Some one else had dis- 
covered the combination — perhaps old Cabart. 
And the keys, who but his servant could have 
taken them from the mantelpiece ? There was a 
conspiracy, that was it. 

But suddenly the cashier thought of his brother’s ' 
two visits, with an hour’s interval — ne'^t he re-J 
called what old Cabart had said about having, seen ^ 
Lucian going into the bank at half-past ten. The 
two brothers were so much alike ! Lucian groaned ^ 


26 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


and covered his face as he thought of how he had 
seen his brother last ; pale, trembling, despairing ; 
of how George had shuddered as he cried, ‘‘You 
are going to your office 

It was perfectly clear George was not wicked, 
but he was weak, and he had lost everything by 
gambling. 

The cashier locked the safe again and left the 
office. As he passed Cabart he said, in a voice 
which was far from firm : 

“I shall not be able to come back to-day. Put 
some one in my place.” 

“ Will you be here to-morrow ? ” 

“Certainly,” said Lucian, flushing painfully; 
“ why should I not ? What do you mean 

“ Oh, nothing,” returned Cabart ; “ only that if 
you want a holiday, I am quite capable of replac- 
ing you. Mr. Pobins thought I was too old for 
the position, but I am in his confidence, and I 
know there is a large sum to be paid to-morrow.” 
He spoke with all the bitterness of jealousy, and 
his last words sounded like a knell in Lucian’s 
ears. “ Give me the key of the safe and I will at- 
tend to the payment.” 

“It wiU not be necessary, I shall be here,” 
replied the cashier. 

Once out in the air he recovered himself a little, 
and was able to view the situation calmly. His 
hrst duty, he knew, was to telegraph to his eiu- 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


27 


ployer, and to notify the police, but this last move 
would be to ruin his brother. 'No, he would not 
do it ; he would Avait till Mr. Kobins came home, 
and, meanwhile, he Avould go and see George. 

During his walk Lucian persuaded himseli that 
his brother was not the guilty one ; his own honor 
and uprightness, as well as his brotherly affection 
cried out against the thought, and it was with a 
lighter heart that he Avent up to George’s apart- 
ments. 

He found only Madame Petit-homme and Sus- 
anne in the chamber of death. 

As he entered, the girl rose to greet him, and 
leading him toAvard the bed, AA^hispered : 

“ Is she not beautiful ? See hoAV she smiles !” 

After a long pause, he asked : 

‘‘ Where is your father?” 

“ I do not knoAV,” said* Susanne, kneeling doAvn 
again at the side of the bed, and Madame Petit- 
homme, having heard the question, answered it by 
saying : 

“ He went to his room soon after you left, and 
Ave have not seen him since.” 

Lucian AA^ent to his brother’s room, thinking 
compassionately, ‘Gie AAushed to mourn in solitude, 
poor George !” 

The door Avas locked, and there Avas no answer 
to his gentle rapping. He knocked more loudly 
but all Avas silent. Then a sudden fear came over 


28 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE, 


him. Can he be dead ? ” The thought of despair 
and suicide filled him with terror and he rattled 
the doorknob, calling loudly ; still there was no 
sound. Then he discovered that the door-key was 
so turned that by stooping he could look through 
the key-hole into the room, and after peering in 
for a minute anxiously, he saw the figure of his 
brother on the bed. He was stretched out at full 
length, but his regularly rising and falling breath 
showed that he merely slept ! 

Losing patience at last, Lucian pounded vio- 
lently upon the door until the heavy sleeper was 
awakened. 

Who is there ? ” said George, faintly. 

“ It is I, Lucian, let me in.” 

In a few minutes the door was opened, and the 
brothers stood looking at each other ; George was 
pale to lividness, and his lips trembled nervously, 
when his brother, filled with fresh suspicion, de- 
manded sternly where he had been on the previ- 
ous evening while his dying wife was waiting for 
him. 

‘‘Where was I?” he repeated, stammering. 
“Petit-homme found me — he can tell you.” 

“ I can guess,” said Lucian ; “ you were at cards 
— ^you are a gambler.” 

George lowered his eyes and made no answer, 
for he saw that denial would be useless. Lucian 
went on. 


JEtm BnOTHER^S sake. 


You came to my office yesterday afternoon 
and said you had no money. What did you 
gamble with ? ” 

I borrowed from a friend.” 

“ What friend ? Tell me his name.” 

“I will not answer your questions,” said George, 
suddenly; “what right have you to catechise me ? ” 
“ Every right,” returned the other; “ you are my 
child. Have I not been father and mother and 
every thing to you ? I have been two indulgent, 
alas! in allowing you to live in idleness. I 
humored every caprice in you, encouraged every 
whim. Even when you found the name of Bus- 
sine on some old deeds of our family and chose to 
add it to our own, Lecomte^ I only smiled at your 
folly, and you became Le compte Bussine instead 
of simply George Lecomte ; and when strangers 
addressed you as Le comte Bussine you accepted 
the title and let them think you were a count. 
Foolish fellow that you were, I loved you only 
too well. You say you borrowed money. Yery 
well; then what did you come to my rooms for at 
ten o’clock and again an hour after ? Quick, there 
is no time to lose. Answer !” 

“Why should I answer 
“ Because I accuse you.” 

“ Of what ? ” said George, calmly. 

“ Of having opened the safe in my office, and 


^0 


fan Hts BROTHER'S 


stolen employer’s money. Say you did not do 
it. Oh, George, say you did not !” 

‘‘ I did not do it.” 

Lucian’s face brightened and he exclaimed, 
joyfuUy. 

“Then there is nothing to fear, I will notify 
the police.” 

But as he spoke he caught sight of his 
brother’s face, and turned toward him again, ex- 
claiming : “You stole the money !” 

George made no reply, though Lucian paused 
hoping to hear him deny indignantly the dread- 
ful charge. 

“ Ah, wretched man !” cried the elder brother ; 
“ what have you done ? How did you fall so low ? 
You have ruined us !” 

“ How can I explain,” said George at last; “ how 
can you understand all my hopes, my disappoint- 
ments, my struggles, my despair ?” 

“Yet tell me all,” said Lucian. “I must know 
all, from the moment that this terrible vice be- 
came your master.” 

“ Two years ago,” said George, obediently, “ I 
began to gamble, I was mad to groAv rich sud- 
denly, the thought took firm hold of me, the 
desire possessed me like a fiend. I said that I would 
stop playing when I had made a modest fortune, 
but when I found that I was losing all, I dared not 
stop. I was ruined, my wife and child were des- 


POR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 




iitute, and I played merely to regain my own, to 
have justice from those who had robbed me. I 
won a little sometimes, but the next day I was 
sure to lose more than double my gains I bor- 
rowed from every one, and yet I lost.” 

He stopped,and looked at his brother piteously, 
and the latter uttered no reproach. Though 
Lucian had no passion so absorbing as his strong, 
self-sacrificing affection, though he could not by 
any possibility understand the criminal weakness 
of the gambler; yet, as he listened to the recital, he 
felt more than ever drawn to his wretched 
brother, and his heart overflowed with pity for 
his misery. 

I struggled on,” continued George, “ and at 
last applied to you for money ; but you were 
pinched yourself, you said, and could not lend the 
sum I wanted. While you talked to me you were 
arranging your papers in the safe, and I saw you 
put in a case full of notes. I was not paying 
special attention to that, but suddenly I caught 
sight of the combination word, the four letters 
were plainly displayed in the lock of the safe. 
You know what those letters spell. It is gain ! 
Ah, why did ill-luck put that fatal word before 
me? I was convinced that my lucky star had 
risen, that it was through you indirectly — you, 
who had always been my guardian angel, that I 
should retrieve my fortunes and win back my 


SS FOR ms BBOTJ^EB’S SAEB. 

money. That magic word seemed to promise 
success, triumph, wealth untold. All I needed 
was capital, and there it was awaiting me behind 
the magic pass-word gain. -The letters seemed to 
smile at me and say, ‘Try once more you will 
win everything to-night, ” He stopped and drew 
a long breath, but his brother did not speak. 
“Do not think,” continued George, “that I 
yielded easily, even in thought, to the temptation. 
I struggled against it, I hurried out of the bank 
with you and went at once to several places and 
tried to raise the money; but it was useless, my 
credit was exhausted. I went into a restaurant, 
but could not eat. 

“ My brain was on fire and a feverish thrist at- 
tacked me ; I drank more than I had ever drunk 
before, for I could not control my thirst. And all 
the time that word, that fatal gain, kept dancing 
before my eyes. I got up from the table and 
rushed to your apartments, intending to make an- 
other appeal ; and when I found that you were not 
there, I went into the parlor, intending to wait for 
your return. But I had not been many minutes 
in the room when I caught sight of a bunch of 
keys lying on the mantelpiece, and I recognized 
among them the key of the bank and that of your 
safe where the banknotes lay. Then I was con- 
vinced that my lucky star had risen, for every- 
thing was in my favor ; I had seen the combina- 


^'OR EIB BROTnm^S SAKE. 




tion word, and I had come to your rooms while 
you were out, and when you, who were always so 
exact, had forgotten to take your keys away with 
you — It seemed clearly intended that I should 
borrow from the safe, make a fortune, and then re- 
turn the amount before it had been missed. It 
was the hand of fate stretched out to save me ; I 
was so convinced of this that I hesitated no 
longer, but took the keys and went straight to the 
bank. I opened the safe, drew out the green 
portfolio, and stuffed the banknotes into my 
pockets. Then I drove to the club, and sat down 
to Baccarat.” 

He stopped again as if unable to go on, and his 
brother, speakign in a tone of grief, of pity, said, 
softly : “ When they told you that your wife was 
dying, and wished to see you, why did you not 
stop playing ? Did not the thought of her who 
loved you destroy your frenzy ? ” 

‘‘The frenzy was already gone,” George an- 
swered. “ I had lost heavily, and I realized the 
fatal consequences of my guilt. Ah, brother, I 
was not playing then, I was fighting for you and 
for myself. I knew that Henriette was dying, but 
I dreaded her death less than her reproaches ; I 
thought she stood before me, pale and weak, and 
whispered, ‘You have killed your wife, you have 
ruined your brother, you have disgraced your 
child!” 


34 


FOn BI8 BROTHERS SAKE. 


After a long pause, Lucian asked : 

“ Did you lose all the money f ’ 

All !” returned the other in a low voice. 

And you have no means of replacing it ? Can 
you not borrow from any one f ’ 

“ N^o ; there is no one to help me.” 

Then I must try. Unfortunately, I have only 

a few hours, and to-morrow morning ” 

He stopped suddenly, for he would not reproach 
his brother. 

‘‘ Go to your wife’s room and pray for us both,” 
he said. 


CHAPTEE Y. 

After speaking with Lucian about the arrange- 
ments for the funeral, Mr. Petit-homme went up 
to his little apartment on the fifth story. He rang 
the bell and waited, for getting into his domicile 
was not such a simple matter as one would sup- 
pose. After a minute Caesarina’s deep voice was 
heard inquiring : 

Who’s there?” 

“It is I, Cornelius,” replied her husband in 
his high soprano, but this was not enough. 

Caaesarina opened a tiny panel in the door and 
looked out cautiously ; and when she had seen her 
husband and made sure that it was not a stranger 


je'OR ms BRomm’S sakb. 


35 


imitating his voice, she let down the iron chain, 
drew back two large bolts, turned the key, and at 
last opened the door. 

What was the cause of all this? Could such 
precaution be necessary in broad daylight, in a 
well-appointed house in the heart of Paris? Was 
Caesarina, fearful lest some unwelcome admirer 
might, in her husband’s absence, make his way to 
her presence ? That was not likely, for Madame 
Petit-homme was fifty years old if she was a day, 
and, besides that, she was not particularly attractive 
with her big head and wide mouth. Perhaps she 
was afraid of burglars ; yet it seemed hardly prob- 
able that any thief would climb up to that hum- 
ble little apartment on the fifth fioor. What 
would he find in those three little rooms, except 
cheap furniture and pewter dishes, and a ward- 
robe of the plainest material ? And yet there was 
one object in the midst of these humble surround- 
ings which would have attracted attention. Be- 
tween the windows of the tiny parlor, which 
served also as dining-room, was an iron-bound box 
fastened to the wall, and closed securely with 
bands and padlocks, and this chest contained 
deeds, bonds, and banknotes, in short, a good- 
sized fortune. 

Cornelius Petit-homme had in early youth been 
office boy to Mr. Lecomte, George and Lucian’s 
father, who was in the Civil Service. Many years 


36 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


after his marriage to Ceesarina he bought a share 
in the Credit Fonder of France ; this cost him only 
five hundred francs, and eighteen months later he 
was informed that his number had won, a prize of 
five hundred thousand francs ! It seemed an im- 
mense fortune to those two, who had never before 
owned as much as five hundred francs at a time ; 
they laughed with joy, they fell into each other’s 
arms, and exclaimed: ‘‘We are rich! we are 
rich I” 

Yet, strange to say, they made no difference in 
their manner of living, they bought no clothes nor 
furniture, they added nothing to their table, they 
offered no hospitality to their friends, they thought 
of nothing but of buying more shares and winning 
more prizes. Money-getting and money-saving 
became a passion with them ; when they were 
poor they had been generous, but on growing rich 
they became misers. Cornelius resigned his posi- 
tion in the Civil Service office, and devoted all his 
time to the management of his fortune ; he haunted 
the Exchange picking up information from one and 
another, buying stock, watching the fluctuations 
of the market, and selling at the first favorable 
opportunity. As he was very cautious, and was en- 
abled by the economy of his wife to hold his 
shares when the market was down, he soon began 
to see his fortune grow, like a snowball rolling 
down hill. 


FOR Ills BROTHEIVS SARK 


37 


It so happened that the Petit-hommes engaged 
an apartment in the same house as George Le- 
comte de Bussine and his family, so that they 
often met Lucian Lecomte, who was then in the 
Stock Exchange, and was able to give them valu- 
able advice. In spite of his economical tenden- 
cies, Cornelius Petit-homme liked to have his reg- 
ular meals, and this was the only subject of dis- 
pute between him and his little wife. Cassarina 
ate no more than a canary bird, and she could not 
forgive her husband in having an appetite in pro- 
portion to his size. 

You will ruin us if you eat so much,’’ she often 
said to him ; a man with such an appetite should 
dine at a restausant — at table d’hote. They would 
not make much from your custom, but that is their 
lookout.” 

Cornelius, ahvays brave when fighting for his 
stomach, kissed his wife as he entered the apart- 
ment, drew the bolts carefully, and then remarked 
that it must be dinner time. 

“ No, indeed, it is much too early,” answered 
Csesarina. 

But it is late for breakfast, and I have had 
nothing to-day, my dear.” ' 

‘‘Well, since it is late for breakfast and early 
for dinner, we had better have neither,” said the 
thrifty housewife.” 

“ But I am empty, empty,” persisted Cornelius, 


38 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


and to his wife muttered remark that his capacity 
was a disgrace to him, he answered nothing, for 
he knew that Caesarina was bound to have the 
last word, and that a discussion would only delay 
the arrival of the viands. Madame Petit-homme, 
who was really fond of her giant, opened a cup- 
board without more ado and brought out the meal. 
This did not take long to do, for there was only 
one dish, and it consisted of a roast chicken, or 
rather the remains of a fowl which had been begun 
three days before. 

“ Again cried Cornelius, involuntarily ; and 
then he added in a hesitating tone, ‘‘there is 
hardly anything on these bones.’’ 

His wife looked at him impatiently, and from 
him to the chicken, and then, seeing that the meal 
was indeed a very slender one for so big a man, 
she relented so far as to promise him a cup of 
coffee when he had finished eating. This encour- 
aged him to attack the bird, and when it was en- 
tirely demolished, he said cheerfully : 

“ Kow, my dear, I am ready for the coffee.” 

“ What coffee ? ” asked his wife. 

“ Why the cup of coffee you promised me.” 

^ Pooh ! I only said that to encourage you to 
eat the chicken, and now that you have finished 
it, you do not need any encouragement.” 

Cornelius was meditating on the truth of this 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


39 


remark, when some one knocked at the front door 
of the apartment. 

Caesarina went through the usual ceremony of 
opening the panel, letting down the chain, draw- 
ing the bolts, turning the key, and at last opening 
the door and admitting the visitor. It was Lu- 
cian Lecomte. He was ushered into the little 
parlor where Cornelius sat eyeing sadly the frag- 
ments of the chicken, which Madame Petit-homme 
hastened to remove, apologizing meanwhile to the 
visitor for her husband’s inordinate love of eating. 

“ Does Miss Susanne want me ? ” asked Cornelius. 

“ Ho indeed,” replied Lucian ; I have come up 
here entirely on my own account. I want to ask 
a very great service of you.” 

“ Of us! We shall be delighted, Mr. Lucian,” 
said Caesarina. 

“ Delighted,” echoed Cornelius. What is it ? ” 

‘‘ I have had a serious misfortune,” began Lu- 
cian, “ and only the death of my sister-in-law pre- 
vented my telling you of it before.” 

He hesitated, for he was not practised in the 
art of falsehood, and he must shield his brother at 
all hazards. 

‘‘ I have lost a large sum of money belonging to 
Mr. Eobins ” 

‘‘Oh, Mr. Lucian, how terrible!” cried his 
listeners. 

“ I took it out of the safe to make a payment, 


40 


FOB HIS BROTHER a SAKE. 


and whether I dropped it in the street, or had my 
pocket picked, I cannot say ; but the money is 
gone.” 

“How much was it?” asked Madame Petit- 
homme breathlessly. 

“ One hundred and ten thousand francs.” 

“ Good heavens !” cried Csesarina and Cornelius, 
“ what will you do ? Have you reported it to the 
police, or will you advertise ? ” 

“ That would be no use,” said Lucian, shaking 
his head sadly ; “ I could not possibly recover it in 
time, for I must make a large payment to-morrow 
morning. If the moiiey is not forthcoming, they 
will blame me; and perhaps, who knows, they 
may suspect me ” 

“You! Suspect you!” screamed Cornelius ^ 
“ they would not dare.” 

“ I cannot say,” returned Lucian Lecomte, “ but 
they can hold me responsible ; and if I do not 
make good the loss I shall be dismissed, and my 
career will be blighted.” 

The husband and wife were dumbfounded. 
They loved Lucian as much as their avarice would 
permit them to care for any one, but they could 
see no way out of the difficulty. 

“What is to be done?” they said at last, in 
despairing tones. 

“The only remedy is for me to replace the 
money/^ 


FOR ms BROTHERS S SAKE. 


41 


But how can you raise so much ? Have you 
saved anything?” 

“ Ho, nothing. And I have but my salary.” 

‘‘Have you any rich friends who could lend 
you as much ? ” 

“ I thought of you.” 

“ Of us ? ” they exclaimed, instinctively looking 
towards the strong box on the wall, and Lucian 
went on eagerly: 

“ You are the only persons I know who could 
produce as much ready money at short notice, and 
I do not think you will refuse to help such an old 
friend as I am. Forgive me for reminding you 
that you made most of your money through my 
advice and assistance. You will not hesitate to 
devote a part of it to saving me from ruin.” 

“ But we are not as rich as you suppose, Mr. 
Lucian,” said Csesarina, after a pause. 

“ Surely you have the amount I want,” cried 
he, “ or you can very quickly get it. And you 
will not lose the money, I wiU pay you back 
faithfully by instalments and with interest. I 
will have my life insured for you at once ; but 
I am not likely to die, and Mr. Eobins has talked 
of giving me an interest in the business. Surely 
you can not refuse me. Oh, if you only knew ” 

He stopped suddenly arid thought of his brother 
whom he must not betray. And CaBsarina, who 
had risen from her seat and put her arms round 


42 


FOR EIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


the money chest as if protecting her only child 
said curiously : 

“ If we knew what ? ” 

‘‘ If you knew what it costs me to ask this loan 
of you,” said Lucian, hastily. 

It grieves us more to refuse you.” 

“ You will not let me have the money 

“ Alas, we can not. Can we husband 

“No”, said Cornelius, in reply to her sharp 
glance. 

“ Why not ?” cried the cashier; “ of what use is 
it to you, locked up in that chest? What pleasure 
does it give you? And even if you do enjoy it, 
you will not lose anything by lending it to me for 
a little while. You will have it all back, and the 
interest besides.” 

Long he pleaded and promised, but received 
only sighs and shakings of the head in reply. At 
last, however, CaBsarina spoke, leaving the chest, 
and standing before him with her arms folded. 

“Mr. Lucian Lecomte, you do not understand 
how precious our money is to us. We became 
rich late in life ; for many years we suffered the 
trials of poverty, and suddenly in our old age this 
fortune came to us like food to the starving. 
We love it as people do an only child sent them 
after years of waiting — ^with a frenzy of devotion 
so strong as to make up for aU the lonely years 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


43 


passed without it. If you had known all this 
you would not have asked us to part with it.” 

I thought you were my friends,” said Lucian. 

And Csesarina answered. 

We are your friends. We are willing and 
anxious to do anythfng to serve you; we will 
sacrifice our time for you, our health, our strength, 
even our life if necessary, we will give you any- 
thing you ask, except our money. That is the 
one thing that we will not part with, even to you 
we cannot. You do not know how we deny our- 
selves for our money chest. Ask my husband 
what sort of breakfast he has just made, within 
sight of our three hundred and fifty thousand 
francs ; look at my gown, it is thin and patched, 
it hardly keeps out the cold, but I do not care, I 
would not mind freezing if I knew that the chest 
was fuU.” 

“ What good is the money, shut up in the chest 
— what pleasure does it give you?” 

“ What pleasure ! The pleasure, the rapture of 
looking at and feeling it, and knowing that it is 
our own. Every night when other people are 
asleep and we are sure of not being disturbed, we 
close all the shutters, draw the curtains, and 
unlock the chest. We spread our fortune on the 
table, and then, with spectacles on our noses and 
magnifying-glasses in our hands, we read aU that 
is written on the banknotes; we decipher the small 


u 


FOR HI8 BROTHERS SAKE. 


est print; we take down the value of the bonds, we 
make endless calculations, until nearly the whole 
night is passed. This is the pleasure that our 
money gives us, and we are never tired of it. We 
will never consent to diminish our fortune by a 
franc.” 


CHAPTER YI. 

Lucian Lecomte saw that it was useless to fight 
against the avarice of his two friends. They were 
the Jews of the Middle Ages, dressed in modern 
Parisian costume ; their proto-types plunged their 
bony fingers into heaps of glittering gold coins; 
but they handled and pored over paper, notes and 
bonds; it was all the same vicious passion, though 
its outward form was altered by modern civiliza- 
tion. 

On leaving the Petithomme’s apartment, Lu- 
cian went straight to his own home and pondered 
long over his perilous position, and it was not 
until nine o’clock at night that he returned to his 
brother. This time he found George seated near 
his dead wife, clasping his daughter in his arms. 

Lucian looked at his brother with unabated 
affection in spite of all that had happened, for the, 
love of years was not to be annihilated in a single 
day, the past could not be forgotten merely because 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


45 


the long-loved object had proved weak and un- 
worthy of confidence. 

Upon his niece, Susanne, Lucian also looked 
with tenderness and pity. She was all in black, 
which heightened the bright bloom of her young 
face, and her blue eyes were suffused with tears. 

Poor child ! What a sad entry into the years 
of womanhood ; to lose the loving confidante of 
her every thought, the wise and tender counsellor 
of her young mind and heart! As Lucian 
Lecomte gazed upon those two, he recalled the 
promise he had made to Susanne’s mother, and re- 
solving to abide by that promise, to sacrifice him- 
self if need be for his fair young niece, he fancied 
that a smile of benediction played about the lips 
of the dead. But time was flying, and he must 
hasten to carry out his plans before it was too 
late. He went over to his brother and said softly. 

Get up, George,! want you;’’ and then signing 
to Susanne, who was about to leave them, he said. 

Stay, dear child. I want to hear your father’s 
words so that if he ever forgets them you can re- 
mind him of this night.” 

Then putting his hand upon his brother’s arm, 
he said solemnly : 

‘‘ Kneel down, place your right hand upon your 
dead wife’s head, and swear that you will never 
gamble, never touch a card again in all your life.” 

George knelt, and did as he was commanded ; 


46 


FOR HIS BROTHER’S SAKE. 


and Lucian turned again to his niece, and said : 

“ Kemember what you have heard, my child : 
remember, too, your dear mother’s last injunction; 
‘ trust your uncle in all things, and obey him.’ ” 

The room was dimly lighted by two wax can- 
dles, the bed all draped in white, with a black 
crucifix hanging above it. Upon the pillow was 
the dead face ; here was death, the end of life, 
the final tableau ; close by knelt Susanne in all the 
radiance of youth ; it was a striking contrast. 

After a long pause Lucian spoke again : 

“ Susanne, go and sleep. I shall call you in a few 
hours, and then you must bid farewell to your 
mother and leave this house with your father.” 

‘‘ And not go to the church and the cemetery 
with mamma said the girl in amazement. 

“ITo, my dearest child; it is impossible for 
certain reasons. You are to leave Paris, in fact, 
France; you are going to take a long journey 
with your father.” 

“ But who will take care of mamma’s grave ; 
who will plant flowers on it ?” 

“ I will attend to it, I promise you.” 

“ And you are not coming with us 

‘‘ Uo, dear ; I cannot leave my business at 
present.” 

Susanne cast down lier eyes and said sadly : 

“I know that you will take good care of mamma’s 


FOR HIS BROTHER'S SAKE. 


47 


grave ; but oh, uncle Lucian, I should like to kneel 
and pray there, just once before I go away.” 

“It is absolutely necessary, for your father’s 
happiness and for your own future, that you 
should leave France to-morrow,” replied the uncle. 
“ Oh, my darling, do not question my wishes, but 
trust in me.” 

The girl remembered her mother’s dying words 
and answered with a sigh of resignation : 

“ Yery well, uncle, I will go.” 

Then she stooped, and pressed her lips to the 
marble face of the dead; and without speaking 
she turned away and went to her own room. 
With a bursting heart she looked round her. 
Every object was a souvenir of her lost mother. 
Here was the white bedstead that Henriette had 
bought when her child had outgrown the little 
crib ; how proud Susannehad been of that bed and 
yet how glad to leave it every morning to creep in 
beside her mother. And next the bed was a 
dainty chair, embroidered by that same dear 
friend ; on the mantel a clock, a present on her 
last birthday, and the pretty little watch she had 
received on the morning of her tenth birthday, 
all the pictures and little ornaments of the room, 
everything she had, recalled memories of her 
mother. And now she must leave them behind, 
she must part with them forever. But no, she 
would carry everything she could away with her, 


j^oR ms BRomms sake. 


4S 

and instead of going to rest, slie began packing 
up her most precious relics, stopping every now 
and then to press back the welling tears. 


CHAPTEE YII. 

When the brothers were alone together, Lucian 
said in a firm voice : 

‘‘ You heard what I told Susanne. You are to 
leave France to-morrow, and you must begin life 
over again. Eemoved from your accustomed 
haunts and companions, you will be better able to 
resist temptation — to keep the vow you have made. 
You must do this for the sake of your child — ^for 
her too you must work. You are an artist, your 
paintings have been highly spoken of, and you 
have an object in making use of your talent. 
I remember that you once expressed a desire to 
visit the Orient, exclaiming that there you could 
become a true artist. Go there now, live in Eg3rpt 
and in Tunis ; the novelty of those countries will 
please Susanne and help her to forget her sorrow. 
But remember to avoid large toivns, live as simply 
and as economically as possible, and above all, 
do not allow Susanne to glance at a French news- 
paper ; this is of the highest importance.” 

The other man listened, and although he could 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


49 


not understand his brother’s plans, made no 
objection or comment, but bowed his head in 
token of obedience. 

“ I will give you a few thousand francs to begin 
with,” continued Lucian, and you must work hard 
to support your child. She may write to me 
occasionally, but her letter must always be sent 
to Mr. Petit-homme as I cannot tell where I may 
be.” 

You are going to leave Paris ?” said George 
at last. 

“ ITo, I remain here.” 

“ Then I remain too.” 

“ Why so ?” 

“ Because your safe : when they discover the 
deficit—” 

‘‘ That concerns me only,” interrupted Lucian. 

“ But suppose they accuse you of embezzle- 
ment ?” 

“I shall declare my innocence. Mr. Bobins 
will return to-morrow, and I think that he will 
believe me. He will allow me to make good the 
loss by degrees.” 

“ But if he suspects you? I must be here to con- 
fess that I alone am the guilty one,” cried the 
gambler. 

‘‘ It is for the purpose of avoiding such a possi- 
bility that I command you to go,” answered 


50 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


Lucian, putting his hands on his brother’s should- 
ers, and looking at him fixedly. 

‘‘I cannot go, Lucian, and leave you to suffer 
in my place.” 

“ I forbid you to stay. I promised our mother 
to watch over you, and I have neglected my 
trust. The fault is mine, and I must take the 
consequences. I promised Henriette, too, to take 
care of her child, and I must keep my vow — I 
must make her happy and respected, and this is 
the only way to save her from misery and dis- 
grace. The only thing that you can do to repair 
your fault, to protect your child from the effects 
of your crime, is to take her away from her coun- 
try, and live an honest, honorable life in a distant 
land.” 

‘‘But why need we go so far? I cannot go 
beyond the reach of all tidings. If you are in 
danger ” 

“You must, you shall!” cried Lucian, angrily. 
“ It is the only way. You are to think of Susanne 
alone — not of me, nor of yourself. Y ou are to live 
for your child — that is your whole duty. If you 
do not obey me entirely,” he added, in a solemn 
tone, “ I will disown you, I will be your brother 
no longer ; never, never will I speak to, or look at 
you again.” 

George de Bussine ceased to protest, and his 
brother went on hurriedly : 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


51 


‘‘You will take the early express train to-morrow 
for Marseilles, and then set sail in the first ship ; 
not a moment is to be lost anywhere. Give me a 
written order to sell out your property here, and 
then pack your trunks as fast as possible. Ilen- 
riette’s funeral will be at ten to-morrow, and I shall 
explain to the few wlio. attend it that your daugh- 
ter’s health, broken by her mother’s death, necess- 
itated your taking her away before the last 
ceremonies. When my sister-in-law is laid to rest, 
I mil think of myself, and may Heaven protect 
me.” , 

Early the next morning Susanne stooped over 
the cofiin, and, raising her mother’s cold, white 
hand, placed in it a portrait of herself as a little 
child. 

There is the little girl you loved so well,” she 
whispered, pressing her lips for the last time to 
her mother’s face, and then her strength' giving 
way before her sorrow, she fell fainting, and was 
carried to the carriage where her father awaited 
her. 

As they were driven away, Lucian gazed sadly 
after them, and then busied himself with the ar- 
rangements for the funeral. When all was over 
he went to his rooms, resolving to await the time 
of Mr. Eobins’ return, and have an immediate in- 
terview with him. His servant told him that two 
persons had came inquiring for him in his absence. 


FOB ms BROTHER'S SAKE. 


“Yery well/’ said the cashier, “admit no one; 
I shall he very busy for two hours.” 

It wanted exactly that time to the hour of 
Mr. Robins’ return, and Lucian Lecomte, after 
again consulting the railway time-table witli 
which he had provided himself, occupied the in- 
terval in arranging liiz letters and various papers, 
and burning such as were of no value. At the 
end of two hours he took up his hat and was 
about to leave the apartment, when the bell rang, 
and his servant, with many apologies for disobey- 
ing orders, announced two callers. 

It was the ca23tain of pohce and one of his 
ofB.cers. The latter, at a sign from his superior, 
took a seat in the ante-room, while the captain 
introduced himself to Mr. Lecomte. 

Lucian Lecomte had foreseen every thing but 
this. He had thought that .when the other em- 
ployes of the bank found that he was not at his 
place in time to make the expected payment, they 
would think him indisposed or even negligent, and 
would quietly await the arrival of their principal. 

But, unfortunately, he had forgotten Cabart, his 
rival, the unsuccessful aspirant to the position of 
cashier. At nine o’clock in the morning this in- 
dividual began to wonder at Lecomte’ s non-ap- 
pearance. “It is shameful in him to be so late 
to-day of all days. He is taking advantage of Mr. 


FOB HIS BROTHER'S SAKE. 


53 


Robins’ absence to have a holiday. Oh, these 
young men 1 There is no relying upon them.” 

At eleven o’clock the payment of eighty-thou- 
sand francs was demanded, but refused by Cabart, 
who explained in a loud voice that the cashier 
was absent, and that Mr. Robins being away, no 
one could open the safe. 

Every tongue in the office began wagging, and 
Cabart went from one desk to another in delight. 

‘‘What can it mean?” said the employes, won- 
deringly ; “ why did he not at least leave out the 
money?” 

“ I proposed it to him,” said Cabart, “ but Mr. 
Lecomte saw fit to decline without thanking me. 
He has been here only two years, and yet he was 
placed over me who have served faithfully for 
nearly twenty years. That is always the way.” 

“ Perhaps he has been taken ill,” said some one, 
and a boy was immediately sent to his rooms to 
inquire, but was told by the janitor that Mr. 
Lecomte had not been home all night. The next 
time he went he learned that the cashier had 
come home at an early hour, and gone away 
again, no one knew where. 

The wonder of the employes increased on re- 
ceiving these tidings, and Cabart contributed no 
small share to their amazement and suspicions. 

“ Hot home all night !” he cried, raising his eye- 
brows, “ and a wild young fellow like that is pre- 


54 


. FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


f erred to a solid man with grown up children and 
of proved reliability. Of course it is only a piece 
of negligence,” he said, suddenly, as the office door 
opened, and then seeing that it was not the truant 
who entered, he went on acrimoniously, ‘‘Only 
yesterday. Dangler & Company’s cashier ran off to 
Belgium.” 

“ Perhaps we ought to notify the police,” said 
a young clerk, briskly. 

“No, no, there is no necessity for that, I am con- 
fident,” said Cabart, shaking his head ; “ of course, 
it is our duty^ to protect our principal, but he will 
be here in a few hours.” 

“ In a few hours a man can be in Belgium, and 
then what ? ” said the same young clerk. 

“ Not so fast, young man, you are over zealous 
for Mr. Kobins. It is only I who will be blamed 
if there is any loss to the house.” 

“ But there can be no loss,” said another ; “ Mr. 
Lecomte is an honest man.” 

“ Of course he is; that is just what I say, in spite 
of this young fellow’s remarks. Something has 
happened to our cashier, some accident in the 
street ; I will send the boy to his rooms again.” 

Cabart then went into his private office, sign- 
ing to three of his special friends to follow him. 

“ Do not breathe this to the others, ” he said, as 
his listeners pressed round him ; “ but I cannot 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


55 


help my suspicions. A man must believe his own 
eyes.” 

“ What — what is it ? ” cried the three, eagerly. 

“ This is between ourselves ? ” 

“ Of course, of course ; we will not mention it.” 

“On the night before last, at half-past ten 
o’clock, I was passing the bank, and I distinctly 
saw him gliding up the steps and unlocking the 
door.” Cabart spoke solemnly, and his hearers 
looked at him in blank amazen;ent. 

“ Are you sure ? ” asked one at last. 

“ Absolutely. My wife and daughter were with 
me, and they saw him as plainly as I see you now. 
They could swear to it, if it were necessary.” 

“ It is very strange, to say the least,” returned 
the others; “ but Mr. Cabart, did you say anything 
about it to him the next morning ? ” 

“ Yes, indeed; I spoke of it in a casual way direct- 
ly he came, and would you believe it, he denied 
emphatically having been here after business 
hours ! ” 

“What!” 

“ He did; and when I said that I had seen him 
he declared that I must have mistaken some other 
person for him.” 

“ It is hardly possible that all three of you made 
such a mistake.” 

“ Hardly. My wife and daughter know Mr. 


56 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


Lecomte very well; they have seen him every 
time they have come to the bank.” 

Why should he have denied having come here 
after hours ? ” 

‘‘That is a mystery, ”said Cabart; and just 
then the boy returned from Lucian’s rooms with 
the news that he had not yet returned. 

Cabart’s confidants now spread broadcast the tale 
he had told them, and the majority of the hearers 
were of the opinion that the police ought to be 
notified. After a long discussion Cabart resigned 
himself, though with affected reluctance, to this 
decree and the result was that the captain of 
police was ushered into Lucian’s presence 


CHAPTER YIII. 

The cashier, pale and agitated in spite of his 
efforts at self-control, waited in silence for his 
visitor to speak. 

“ Am I right in supposing that you are Mr. 
Lucian Lecomte, cashier in the bank of Messrs. 
Robins & Co., in the boulevard Haussmann ? ” said 
the new-comer, politely. 

“ Yes, ” returned Lucian, signing to a chair, and 
then seating himself. 

“ I hope, Mr Lecomte,” began the police captain 


FOB HI8 BB0THER8 SAKE. 


57 


slowly,” that you do not misunderstand my object 
in calling upon you this afternoon, I have come 
to make a few inquiries, in the interest not only 
of your employers but of yourself as well.” 

Lucian bowed without speaking, and the cap- 
tain went on : 

‘^Your colleagues at the bank are very much con- 
cerned at your non-appearance, especially on ac- 
count of a large payment that you were to have 
made this morning. Will you be good enough 
to tell me the cause of your absence ? ” 

“ I prefer to explain it to Mr. Kobins, who is to 
be at home in a few minutes. I was just going to 
meet him when you came in, ” said Lucian. 

“ Mr. Eobins is not coming to-day, ” said the 
other ; “ a despatch has just been received from 
him saying that important business will detain 
him in England for twenty-four or perhaps even 
forty-eight hours longer.” 

Lucian’s hopes died within him at this news, and 
his face grew paler than before as he glanced at the 
dispatch which the police captain handed him. 

“ You will now understand, Mr. Lecomte, that 
it will be impossible to postpone your explanation 
until Mr. Kobins’ return. He has, of course, been 
telegraphed to come back immediately ; but as he 
has in all probability left London, he will not re- 
ceive the message for some time, and in any case 
he could not reach home before to-morrow. I beg 


58 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


you therefore to confiae to me your reasons for 
not being at your desk when you knew that there 
was an important payment to be made.” 

Lucian answered without a moment’s hesitation : 

“It was on account of that payment that I 
absented myself. I would rather be thought forget- 
ful or negligent of my duty, than that the house 
should be mistrusted for an instant. I would 
not have been able to meet the payment this 
morning.” 

“ Do you mean that there is not enough money 
in the safe ? ” 

“ Precisely.” 

“ But when Mr. Eobins left home did he not 
entrust to you the necessary funds?” 

Lucian hesitated a instant and then, not know- 
ing what else to say, answered: 

“ I shall explain every thing to Mr. Eobins.” 

The police captain shook his head and said, very 
seriously: 

“ Your refusing to answer my question, makes 
it appear that he did not provide for the payment.” 

“ I did not say so,” returned the cashier. 

“And, excuse me, I could not believe you if 
you had ” said the other, “for a letter received from 
Mr. Eobins yesterday morning, gives full direc- 
tions for the matter in question, and shows, more- 
over, that there ought to be at this moment more 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


69 


than a hundred thousand francs in the safe 
What has become of the money ? ” 

I have not got it,” said Lucian, in a low tone. 
He had no defense to make, for he dared not say 
he had been robbed, lest investigation should 
prove his brother to be' the thief. He had 
made up his mind what to say to Mr. Eobins, who 
had every confidence in him, but this unexpected 
catechising from a stranger disconcerted him so 
much that he had every appearance of being over- 
whelmed with the consciousness of guilt. 

The captain of police stood up and asked in a 
stern voice : 

“ Do you think the safe has been robbed 
‘‘Ho, I suspect no one.” 

“Did you take out the money yourself?” 

“ Ho sir, I did not,” cried Lucian, emphatically: 
And the other man, surprised at his unwonted 
energy, said more gentlyi 

“ Does any one besides yourself and your em- 
ployer know the combination of the lock ? ” 

“Ho one.” 

“ Can any one have found it out ? ” 

“ I do not think that is probable.” 

“ And your keys. Do you always keep them 
about you?” 

“Yes, they never leave my pocket ? ” 

“ And you have not even the remotest suspic- 
ion of any one ? ” 


60 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


“No” 

“ Do you solemnly affirm your own innocence 

“I do” 

The questioner looked round the room 
thoughtfully and then began again : 

“You told me that when I entered this room, 
you were just about to go and meet Mr. Eobins. 
Are you quite sure that you were not intending 
to leave the city ? ” 

“ I am quite sure of that.” 

“Yet here is a railway time-table, and it is 
opened at the page giving the hours of the north- 
ern road — the trains to Belgium.” 

“Mr. Eobins is coming from Calais, and I was 
consulting the time-table in reference to his 
arrival. If I had desired to run away, I should 
have done so before now.” 

“ Perhaps you were too busy ? I see you have 
been burning papers.” Lucian made no reply 
for he knew that appearances were against him, 
and the captain of police, taking up his hat, added: 

“ I am sorry, Mr. Lecomte, but I must ask you 
to remain here until my return,” and going into the 
next room he gave some directions to the officer 
who was seated there. 

Two hours later the captain came back again, 
and this time he was the bearer of a warrant of 
arrest. 


FOR EIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


61 


CHAPTEE IX. 

Ceetain crimes, like certain maladies, are apt to 
T)ecome epidemic in large cities. At one time 
murder is the fashion, and the crime will be done in 
an interesting variety of ways : some persons using 
a knife, others a pistol, others again, an ordinary 
handkerchief, or even their hands alone; while 
some eccentric genius will conceive the brilliant 
and striking plan of cutting his victim into pieces 
and despatching him on railway journeys in as 
many trunks, neatly strapped and labellqd. At 
another time there is a sort of craze among bank 
cashiers for appropriating funds, and leaving the 
country at short notice. 

The law is apt to be rather lenient with the first 
offenders, but when imitators of the bad example 
follow one another in rapid succession, and there 
seems to be a prospect of the epidemic becom- 
ing chronic in the community, justice- becomes 
alarmed, refuses to consider the extenuating cir- 
cumstances, and employs the full strength of the 
law to wipe out the contagion. 

Unfortunately for Lucian Lecomte, at the time 
of his arrest there was a perfect fever of dis- 
honesty among cashiers. A few of the culprits 
had been brought to punishment, but many more 
had escaped to Belgium, where they were living 


62 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


in such luxury that rents had gone up, and f aiatino 
was feared. 

The air was full of the lamentations of th© 
robbed ; the newspapers full of the inelRciency of 
the police and of the judges. The news of the 
trouble in the boulevard Haussmann was recSved 
with a howl of indignation from an outraged pub- 
lic. 

‘‘There has been too much of this kind of 
thing,” said every one “ it must be stamped out 
before it spreads further.” 

The circumstance that was the most unfavor- 
able to the accused was the night-visit to the 
bank, for not only the Cabort family, but also the 
janitor of the buildmg, testified to having seen the 
cashier going in. He could not say that he had 
been anxious to finish some writing, or to get 
something out of his desk, as he had, before know- 
ing of his brother’s theft, declared to Cabart that 
he had not been in his ofiice after business hours. 

Lucian Lecomte’s private life was investigated, 
and various clubs and gambling-houses ransacked, 
but though his brother had been a constant player 
the name of Lecomte (thanks to George de Bus- 
sine’s vanity), did not appear on the list of patrons. 
In the Exchange, however, the searchers were 
more successful, for George had often speculated 
and had thought it necessary to sign his true name 
to schedules and receipts. Moreover, Lucian 


FOR- HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


C3 


Lecomte’s name was found coupled, with that of 
Petit-homme on the books of the Exchange brokers 
for Lucian had often negotiated notes for his 
friend. Cornelius and Caesarina, being called to 
the witness-stand, were forced to declare that Mr. 
Lecomte had tried on a certain day to borrow 
from them the sum of a hundred and ten thousand 
francs. 

This testimony made it apparent that Lucian 
had used the missing money, and that he only was 
the thief. 

Three months later he appeared before the 
Court of Assizes. His attitude was calm and dig- 
nified, but his answers very reserved. He de- 
clared his innocence in confident and striking 
terms, but the good impression produced by his 
manner evaporated when the incriminating facts 
against him were brought out. 

Mr. Kobins declared that he would never believe 
his cashier guilty of theft, and that he made no 
charge against him; he bitterly reproached Cabart 
for his precipitation in the matter of summoning 
the police, and expressed his firm conviction that 
there was some mystery about the money which 
sooner or later would be solved. 

This deposition was coldly received, as it was 
attributed to mere sentiment of generosity on the 
part of the banker. Lucian Lecomte’s lawyer 
was only half-hearted in the matter, being affected, 


64 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE, 


perhaps, by tne cautious reserve and evident lack 
of straightforwardness of his chent. 

The jury retired, and after a short delibera- 
tion, returned a verdict of guilty, without any 
mention of extenuating circumstances, Lucian 
Lecomte was condemned to six years’ imprison- 
ment. He had believed up to that moment that 
justice would be done him; conscious of his 
innocence, he had not believed it possible that he 
would be convicted. His brain reeled when he 
heard his sentence, and as he was being taken out 
of the courtroom, he repeated mechanically in a 
broken voice : 

“ I am innocent, I am innocent !” 

With drooping head, his body stiff and aching, 
his limbs weak and nerveless, Lucian Lecomte, 
preceded and followed by a guard, went slowly, 
down the granite staircase that led from the hall 
of the Court of Assizes to the prison cells. 

Six years’ imprisonment ! What an outlook 
for a man who, a few weeks before, was enjoying 
absolute liberty, in full possession of health and 
strength, with no one to question or oppose his 
movements. For six long years he must live 
between stone walls and behind iron bars, with 
no free air, no horizon, and no blue sky above 
him. If he felt like walking about, a stern voice 
would exclaim, “It is against the rules to walk 
now and if he sat down to rest a moment, he 


Fon ms BRomms sakb. 


65 


would be told, “ It is time to walk ; you must pace 
round in this courtyard like a caged beast if he 
spoke, he would be ordered to keep silence. 

And this fate he could have escaped ; this unde- 
served punishment need not have fallen upon 
him ; he could have walked out of the courthouse 
a free man if he had but pointed out the culprit. 
But the culprit was his brother ; the brother he 
had loved so long, and promised to protect and 
watch over — for whom he had sworn to sacrifice 
himself! Could he forget his promise to two 
dying women, the mother and the wife ! 

With slow, uncertain steps he went down the 
stairway to a dimly lighted passage, and now 
the guards walked beside him, each with a hand 
on his shoulder ; he was now not merely sus- 
pected and accused, he was condemned. 

Fearing that he meditated suicide, they put him 
into a cell with another prisoner, a burglar, who 
had just received his sentence often years at hard 
labor. This man tried to draw the new-comer 
into conversation. 

“I hear that you are going to the Ceni/rale; 
that is hard, very hard. I have been to Meluuy 
but now I am to be sent to La Noumlle. I am 
glad of that ; I like to travel at the expense of tiie 
State — it is amusing and instructive.’’ 

“ Ah, leave me in peace 1” groaned Lucian. 

‘‘You want to meditate?” persisted the other. 


66 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


“ Oh, very well, I shall not disturb you — only you 
make a great mistake not to talk while you can. 
At La Centrale^ you will not have a chance to 
wave the red rag, I can tell you.” 

Was this the kind of companionship he was 
doomed to endure for six whole years? The 
prison itself would be terrible enough, the prison 
garb and prison fare would be sufficiently re- 
pulsive; but oh! the comrades he would have 
beside him day and night ! 


CHAPTEK X. 

Xo road could be more gloomy and forbidding 
than tha^ which leads to the prison of La Grcmde 
Roquette. On each side of the street is a row of 
dark old houses containing miserable, squalid-look- 
ing shops, while on every groundfloor is the show- 
room of a marble-cutter, with its funeral urns and 
open tombs. You will soon die,” these seemed to 
say. Take this opportunity of buying yourself a 
gravestone.” On the left side of the Square is 
the Bef ormatory for juvenile delinquents ; in the 
centre, the Place of Execution, whose stones are 
stained with blood and worn by the carnage of the 
guillotine. A little farther off is the prison itself ; 
none are admitted here except those condemned to 


POR ms BROTHERS SAKR. 67 

death, or to an imprisonment of at least one year ; 
and these last must be old offenders, for La Grande 
Roquette is an aristocrat and admits only great 
criminals within her walls. ^ 

The general aspect of the locality is, then, very 
gloomy. On both sides of the road are empty 
tombs ; at the end of it, the Cemetery of Pere-la- 
Chaise, with its tombs all full; on one side of the 
square, the reformatory, a living tomb for child- 
hood ; on the other side, the prison, a tomb for 
those who have lived to no good purpose. 

Along this dismal road the heavy van carried 
Lucian Lecomte to his new home. As soon as 
this well-known vehicle made its appearance, the 
soldiers on guard before the prison took up their 
muskets, and the turnkey, warned by the noise, 
hastened to open the gates. 

As soon as the van had passed into the court- 
yard, and two sets of gates had been barred and 
bolted behind it, it was opened by the officials, 
and the prisoners came out, one by one. 

They were dazed and bewildered by their rapid 
ride through Paris, their limbs ached from their 
cramped position in the van, and their eyes glanced 
furtively about them. 

Lucian Lecomte stood motionless , with his gaze 
fixed on the fiag-stones, while he waited his turn 
to have his name registered on the calendar, and 
a list made of the various articles found on his 


POR STS BROTHEIVS SASM: 


eg 

person (which would he returned to him on the 
expiration of his sentence), and then, a number 
being allotted him, for the purpose of identifica- 
tion, he was taken into a room. It was a low, 
gloomy apartment, where criminals condemned 
to death made their last toilet. Here Lucian w^as 
obliged to undress, and after being closely 
inspected, lest he should have some forbidden 
article concealed upon him, he was given a full 
suit of prison clothes. His face, which had been 
as pale as death, now flushed hotly with shamo 
and indignation, but obedience was his sole duty ; 
and the official who was in charge of him, 
exclaimed, not unkindly, but in a cheerful tone : 

“ You have nothing to complain of, for you will 
be clothed at the expense of the State, while you 
are serving your timej and then your own clothes 
will be given back to you as good as ever !” 

After being shaved and having his head closely 
cropped, Lucian was taken into the prison-yard, 
where the .other convicts were taking their noon- 
day exercise. There were about two hundred of 
them, walking along in single file or by twos ; 
they went slowly, never looking behind them nor 
stopping to converse, always turning at the same 
spot. A few others were seated on a narrow 
bench along the wall, eating their dinner out of 
yellow bowls. The jailor and two or three turn- 
keys sufficed to keep this crowd of men in 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE, 


69 


perfect order, and nothing was heard but the 
murmur of low voices and the rattling of wooden 
shoes upon the pavement. 

As Lucian appeared in the yard, the buzz of 
voices ceased entirely, and every eye was fixed 
upon him. He stood rooted to the spot, in his 
strange, coarse clothes and awkward wooden shoes, 
until a turnkey pushed his arm and said grufily : 

“ Go on, walk ; you cannot stand around.” 

Lucian joined the ranks of his comrades, there- 
fore, and began walking slowly, as . they were 
doing. 


CHAPTER XI. 

The convicts judged the new-comer at a single 
glance. They saw by his attitude, by his evident 
confusion and bewilderment, by the way he 
walked and held his hands, that he was not an 
old offender; while the whiteness of his skin 
convinced them that he had belonged to the 
upper ranks of society. Before long his name 
was whispered from mouth to mouth ; for it was 
well known at La Grande Roquette that a bank 
cashier, named Lucian Lecomte, Had received a 
six years’ sentence in the Court of Assizes. It 
is astonishing how fast news travels and circu- 
t;he jail-birds of Paris. Thinking 


^0 FOR Ills BROTHER'S SAKE. 

that he might possibly have some small money 
about him, they endeavored to conciliate him by 
whispering a word in his ear; but Lucian made no 
reply, for he heard nothing, saw nothing, and 
only walked on mechanically, hardly knowing 
where he was. At the solind of a large bell, the 
procession stopped suddenl}^, and the prisoners 
dispersed to the various work-rooms which were 
situated on the ground floor. Lucian would have 
followed some of them ; but an ofiicial stopped 
him and asked what he could do. 

“ What can I do he repeated, wonderingly. 

“ Yes, what is your trade 

“ I have no trade,” he said. 

“ Then go to the bindery, and they will tell 
you there what to do.” 

Accordingly, the ex-cashier was given his first 
lesson in book-binding, but at seven o’clock the 
great bell announced that it was bedtime. There 
was no gas in the prison, and as the men could 
see to work no longer, they were sent to bed at 
dark, and for a part of the year their night was 
twelve hours long. 

Lucian Lecomte was thankful to find himself 
locked in a narrow cell, where there was no one 
to look at him curiously and try to make him 
talk, where he could be quite alone, with only his 
own thoughts for company. 

Tba next thQ iSuperinteudent sent iQV hihuj 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


71 


and he was led across the front courtyard where 
the van had stopped, and up a staircase to the 
private office of the highest dignitary of the 
place. This man was a strict disciplinarian, but 
had the reputation of being nierciful and humane. 
He read the new-comer at a single glance, and in 
a tone of kindliness and interest, said to him : 

“ Lecomte, I sent for you to tell you that you 
have been particularly recommended to me by 
your former employer. Mr. Bobins came to me 
directly you arrived here.” 

“ He is the only person that believes in my in- 
nocence^” said Lucian, bitterly. 

That is not my affair, of course,” returned the 
other ; while you are here you are in my charge 
as a prisoner, but on account of Mr. Eobins’ re- 
commendation I will do all I can to ameliorate 
your condition. Y ou need not work in the bindery 
with the others, but shall have charge of the lib- 
rary, where your sole duty will be to take in and 
give out the books according to the directions you 
will receive. That work will be more in accord- 
ance with your taste and education.” 

“ I thank you, sir, with all my heart,” said 
Lucian, gratefully. And then the other said : 

“Would you not like to have the privilege of 
the parlor ?” 

“ Ho,” said Lecomte, smiling seidl^ ; “ there 
po one to visit me,” 


^2 


FOR HIS BROTIIEWH SAKE 


“ There you are wrong, you have already been 
called for.” 

By whom ? Mr. Kobins 

“ No, he feared that you would not care to re- 
ceive him ; but two persons, a Mr. and Mrs. Petit- 
homme, have petitioned most earnestly to be 
allowed to see you. If you will write an applica- 
tion I will endorse it, and the request will cer- 
tainly be granted.” 

“Thank you, thank you, sir,” said Lucian, 
thinking that perhaps the Petit-homines had 
received a letter from Susanne for him. As he 
bowed and turned to leave the room the superin- 
tendent rose and showed him to the door, almost 
forgetting that the poor man was not an honored 
guest, so forcibly was he impressed by Lucian’s 
dignity of bearing, and the intellectual, though sor- 
rowful, expression of his face. The man who led 
him to the library said in a tone of congratulation : 

“ You are very lucky, I can tell youo” 

“Comparatively lucky,” thought the other. 


FOR HIS BROTHER’S SAKE. 


73 

CHAPTEE XII. 

One day Lecomte was summoned to the parlor. 
It was a long, low room with small windows look- 
ing into the front court, and was divided by iron 
gratings into three compartments. Into the first 
of these the visitor was ushered, while the prisoner 
whom he wished to see was admitted at the other 
end of the room. Conversation was carried on, 
therefore, with at least a yard’s space between the 
two persons, as the second compartment separated 
them ; this was, however, occupied by guards ; so 
that any exchange of confidences was hardly pos- 
sible. 

As a special privilege, however, Lucian Lecomte 
was admitted to the middle compartment, where 
close contact with visitors could be enjoyed, and 
handshakes and kisses exchanged. When he ap- 
proached his two friends, they did not recognize 
him in his prison uniform, with his haggard face 
shaved and his eyes encircled by deep black lines. 
He called them by name, and at the sound of his 
voice they started up from their seat and went 
towards him slowly with downcast eyes and deject- 
ed bearing. 

Cornelius Petit-homme, indeed, drooped his 
little head so low that it nearly disappeared be- 
twen bis massive square shoij.lders, and h^}oob^4 


^4 for ms BROTHER’S SAKE. 

like some great bird asleep, with his head beneath 
its wing. Lucian Lecomte could not help pitying 
his two friends, and he said in a calm voice, and 
smiling sadly : 

Come nearer, my good friends, for you see I 
cannot go to you, and I want to shake hands with 
you, and thank you for not forgetting me entirely.” 

C^sarina, bolder than her husband, put her 
hand between the gratings and pressed Lucian’s 
nervously, saying, as she did^so : 

‘‘Then you do not bear malice ?” 

“ Why should I he replied ; “ I have nothing 
to reproach you for.” 

“We reproach ourselves, Mr. Lucian ; we have 
done nothing else since you were sentenced. We 
know that all this could not have happened if we 
had not been ” 

“ Misers I” exclaimed Cornelius, solemnly, as his 
wife hesitated. It was probably the first time 
since his marriage that he had ventured to express 
an idea without her aid, and nothing but the most 
poignant remorse could have so far emboldened 
him. 

“Mr. Petit-homme is right,” said Caesarina; 
“ we are misers, but our money will never give us 
pleasure again. Since this dreadful affair was de- 
cided we have not dared to open our chest, for the 
sight of the bonds and banknotes would onljr 
pxake us more miserable.” 


FOR ms BROTHER 8 SAKE. ^5 

“ Do not speak of that any more,” said Lucian. 
‘‘ I wish to forget the past, though I thank you for 
your repentance.” 

Ah ! how much more noble he is than we ! ” 
said the woman, with tears tilling her eyes as 
she looked at her kind friend, the son of her bene- 
factor, standing behind the bars in his prison 
uniform. 

You will not be there long,” she said ; ‘‘ the 
truth will be discovered, and you will have jus- 
tice.” 

Then you, too, like Mr. Robins, do not believe 
me guilty !” he cried, joyfully. 

R’o, we know you are innocent ; and we know 
who is the guilty one.” 

Who do you mean ?” said Lucian, in alarm. 

And Caesarina, seeing his agitation, turned to her 
husband, saying : 

“We were right, Cornelius. It was his brother.” 

“Hush!” said Lucian, in an angry tone; “do 
not dare to say such a thing again. If you re- 
peat it I shall never, never forgive you. Besides, 
it is false, do you hear me — it is utterly false.” 

“Very well, it is false, since you will have it so, 
Mr. Lucian ; and we will not repeat it to any one. 
It is, indeed, too late to speak now. We know just 
how it happened, though it did not occur to us at 
the time of the trial. Your brother lost the 
monejr at plaj^ op the night that Mv, Petit-homme 


Y6 FOR nm BROTHER'S SAKE, 

found him in the club house when his wife was 
dying. You need not deny it nor look as if you 
would like to strike us dumb, for we will keep 
your secret.” 

There is no secret to keep,” persisted Lecomte. 

“ Of course not,” Csesarina said ; “ your brother 
had nothing at all to do with the matter, and you 
had no special object in sending him away from 
France. He has merely gone travelling in Africa 
for his own pleasure.” 

“How do you know he is in Africa?” de- 
manded Lucian ; and Madame Petit-homme 
replied : 

“We received not long ago a letter from Africa ; 
and on opening it found inside another one, 
directed to you.” 

“Ah, give it me — it is from Susanne!” cried 
Lucian, putting his hand between the bars of the 
grating and looking round cautiously at the guard. 
The man was not taking any notice of him, how- 
ever, for he was known to be specially privileged 
by the Superintendent ; and when he had thrust 
the precious missive into his bosom, Ca3sarina said, 
with an air of hesitation and embarrassment : 

“ Mr. Lucian ,we have brought you a few bank- 
notes, for you are surely without money. You 
are astonished, are you not ? We are so ourselves, 
but take the money, quick, while pur good impulse 


HIS BUOTHER'S SAKE, ^7 

Lucian could not restrain a smile as he thanked 
his friends, and assured them that he had no use 
at all for money ; and Caesarina, having eased her 
conscience with the good intention, put the notes 
back into her pocket, and the pair departed prom- 
ising to come again. 

Lucian Lecomte returned to the library, and, 
after making sure that no one was watching him, 
opened the letter. It was from Sus^nne, and ran 
as follows : 

My dear Uncle. As you do not answer my 
letters I fear that you have not received them, 
and so I will tell you everything over again. 
Perhaps, indeed, you will not mind hearing it twice 
from your little Susanne. Oh, how unhappy I 
was the day we left Paris in such a hurry ; how 
I wept for dear mamma — ^you would have been 
very sorry if you had seen me. It grieved me 
beyond everything to think that I could not pray 
beside Eer grave, and strew it with fresh flowers ; 
for even though she could not answer when I 
called, she would smile on me from Heaven, — ^for 
she could not help pitying her child. And you, 
too, my dear Uncle, I was so sorry to leave you 
all alone. I love you so much that I shall not call 
you Uncle” any more, but “father” — you are 
my father, Lucian, and papa is father George. 
He will not be jealous, he loves you too well for 


FOE ms BEOTHEE^S SAKE. 

that. I often hear him murmur, ‘ My brother, oh, 
my brother!’ with his eyes all wet with tears. 
You will excuse this wandering letter, for you 
know I am not yet sixteen, though quite advanced 
for my age, people say. Mamma used to tell me 
that she and I would be together for a long time 
yet, for only my marriage would separate us. 
Alas I death, instead of marriage, has parted us. 
You knew, dear Uncle, how wretched I would be 
at home without my mother, and so you ordered 
me to go away ; you thought that travelling would 
take my thoughts away from my sorrow ; and you 
were right, you are always right. I obeyed you 
because my mother told me to, and because I 
loved you so ; but what a pang it cost me ! I enjoy 
travelling in new lands, I like to see the strange 
costumes and people ; but still I am often sad, and 
I long to see you, whom my mother loved so well. 
Papa, too, is sorrowful, especially when the mail 
from France arrives. One day when he was read- 
ing a newspaper he cried out suddenly, ‘ I must 
go back — I must join him!’ and I knew that he 
spoke of you. That was in the beginning of De- 
cember, but since January he has been more calm, 
for he has seen no more French newspapers, they 
are very rare in these solitudes. What solitudes ? 
I am sure you ask, and now I will tell you all 
about our journey. Our first stopping place was 
Marseilles, of course, where we embarked without 


FOn His BROTHERS SAHE 


79 


any delay, and in thirty-five hours arrived at 
Algiers. Oh, if you only knew how papa has 
changed for the better ! I mean in regard to that 
habit which grieved dear mamma so much, and 
which you made him promise to give up. When 
we were on board the steamer some of the other 
passengers proposed to play cards, but papa 
exclaimed, ‘ I never play ; I shall never play again !’ 
and he took me up on deck, as if he would not 
even look at other persons playing. We stayed 
at Algiers only three days and, indeed, papa would 
have preferred to go on directly, but he thought 
that I needed rest. He seems to shun large 
towns and all French people, and longs only to be 
alone with me. He often presses me to his heart 
and whispers, ‘ Oh, my child, love me, love 
me He never leaves me and seems to think of 
me alone. From Algiers we went by sea to 
Philipville, where we took the train, and in a few 
hours reached Constantine. Such a picturesque 
town ! It is like a big nest perched up on a rock. 
And such strange costumes and people, Arabs, 
Jews, Moors ; and all the women cover their faces 
— I wonder why ? The next day we went in a 
stage-coach to Batna, and then to Biskra, and this 
part of the journey was most fatiguing. All 
around us were mountains, ravines and dreadful 
precipices. But we are here at last, and are well 
rewarded for our trouble; the sky is the most 


so t'OR ms BROTBEES SAKE 

wonderfully cleur blue ; before us lies the Desert 
of Sahara like a sea of purple sand, and on one 
side rise the Atlas Mountains. It is all so 
strangely beautiful, that when I first saw it I fell 
upon my knees and wept. 

And now my father has given me a great sur- 
prise — the artist has awakened in him. We were 
hardly settled down here, near a lovely grove of 
palm trees, when he produced pencils, brushes, 
and colors, which he had bought in Marseilles, 
and began to paint. hope,’ he said, Ho make 
enough money with my brush to pay all that I 
owe and give jou a little dowry, my daughter.’ 
And he will succeed, I know, for he has great 
talent. A young Irish gentleman, Mr. Lionel 
Murdon, who has been here for some time, said 
yesterday, after looking fixedly at a hardly fin- 
ished picture of papa’s, ‘ What wonderful coloring, 
how true to nature it is!’ Imagine how proud 
and happy I felt. We shall stay here at Biskra a 
long time, so you can send your letters here, and I 
long to hear from you. Are you lonely without 
your httle girl? How I wish I could put my 
arms about your neck and kiss you dearest uncle, 
if you were but with us I should be so happy ! 
Pray, pray write soon to your loving and devoted 

SUSANNE.” 

As he read this letter tears obscured the sight 
of Lucian more than once, but they were tears of 


Wn Ms BROTHERS SAKE. 8l 

joy, and brought relief to his bursting heart. He 
saw that his brother had implicitly obeyed him, 
and had hidden himself in a solitude, where news 
from France would hardly penetrate ; and even if 
a newspaper containing an account of the trial 
and conviction should by chance reach him, it 
would then be too late for protest or self -denuncia- 
tion. The letter told Lucian, too, that his had 
not been a fruitless sacrifice, since his brother’s 
best feelings had been awakened by it — he had 
renounced his vice and settled down to honest 
work. Ah, if that dearly loved brother should 
prove to be entirely cured of his fatal vice ; if he 
would but devote his life to his daughter and his 
art, Lucian felt that he could cheerfully bear his 
captivity and disgrace ! It was a real joy to 
suffer for the sake of that innocent, trusting child; 
what would she have been to-day ; what future 
would be hers if he had answered to the judge’s 
questions : My brother is the guilty one!” 

George would have been arrested in the house 
where his wife lay dead; and Susanne, would 
have seen her father dragged away to prison. 

What a sight for one so young ! Lucian con- 
gratulated himself on having kept silence, and a 
holy pride, the pride of the martyr, filled his 
soul. 

His sufferings, both physical and mental, ' 
seemed much easier to bear, and he even looked 


82 


ms moTHEEs sake. 


forward to the possibility of a brighter future, j 
and reflected that, thanks to his clear record and j, 
the influence of his good friend, Mr. Kobins, a | 
great part of his sentence had been remitted. By 
the time he was free again, George and Susanne 
would have returned to France, his brother would 
be a great artist, and Susanne a beautiful young i .. 
lady ; they would all live together in some retired 
place and would be happy and respected. | 

These thoughts, hopes, and dreams made his | 
existence less unbearable during the two months 
of his stay in La Grande Boquette. 

Early in April he learned that he was to be 
one of a convoy of prisoners who were to go to 
another prison to work out their sentence, and | 
two days later he went in the convict van to 
the Penitentiary of Melun. 


j^On HIS BROTHERS SAKE, 


8 ^ 


PART SECOND. 


CHAPTEE I. 

Tunis, surnamed the White by the ancients, 
the Pearl ©f the Occident by the poets, and the 
“ Burnous of the Prophet, ” by the Arabs, was 
very violently agitated on the 18th of September, 
187 — . From the Kasba, or Mussulman quarter, 
to the Place Marine, where the Europeans lived, 
there was nothing but noise and tumult ; in the 
streets of the souks^ or wooden-roofed bazaars, the 
Moors, clad in long robes of violet silk, many col- 
ored turbans on their heads, and sandals on their 
feet, stood about in groups talking and gesticulat- 
ing, instead of making their usual purchases or 
idly drinking coffee; and Arabs, enveloped in 
their white burnous, numerous and noisy, swarmed 
the streets and squares. 

Zankat-el-Hara, the Jewish quarter, was as 
much excited as the rest ; the sale of jewels, orna- 
ments and weapons was forgotten, and the shop- 
keepers met together only to converse vociferously, 
while the Jewish women, whose customs allowed 
them to appear in the streets with uncovered faces, 


84 


FOR ms BROTHERS 8 SAKE. 


mingled with the men and joined in the general 
tumult. They were very beautiful in most cases, 
though somewhat too stout for the Biblical costume, 
which consisted of a short, full skirt of red, blue or 
yellow silk, tight breeches, and large Phrygian 
bonnet. The Europeans were not entirely indif- 
ferent to the causes of all the uproar. Sicilians, 
Sardinians, Anglo-Maltese and French gathered 
in front of their various consulates, or in their 
restaurants and hotels, exchanging ideas on the 
subject and asking questions eagerly. 

hlegroes chattered and gesticulated wildly; 
negresses, waving their arms, rattled their brass 
bracelets, while the wives of fellahs (peasants), 
dressed in cotton tunics, their faces covered with 
white or black veils, sat beside their pyramids of 
wheat and millet and forgot to drive off the great 
blue flies that buzzed about them. A troup of 
Aissonas^ or serpent-charmers, and swallowers of 
lizards and scorpions, whose audience had left 
them suddenly, sat crouched in a corner, staring 
silently at the passers-by. In some of the back- 
streets the dancing-girls, with their foreheads, 
cheeks and ^rms covered with symbolic figures, 
peered through wooden lattices, or drew aside 
the curtains to try and discover what was going 
on in the streets. 

The women of the higher classes, wives or 
odalisques of Turks, Moors, and Arabs, frightened 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


85 


by the noise which hj(d penetrated even to their 
harems, hurried along attended by old black 
eunuchs or slaves, and mingled with the throng 
in the streets. Like the men, they formed them- 
selves into groups, and their gestures were often 
so violent as they talked that the feradje (a sort 
of cloak), would be flung back, showing a vest 
sewn with pearls, and full satin trousers embroid- 
ered in gold. Some of them even so far forgot 
the laws of their religion as to let fall the yashmak., 
or veil, from their faces, and if the men had been 
less preoccupied they could have gazed freely at the 
perfect profiles, the red lips, white teeth, and long, 
gazelle-lilte eyes. 

The later it grew, the more compact became the 
crowd, until it seemed as if every one of the hun- 
dred and fifty thousand inhabitants of Tunis had 
come into the street at once. The horses with 
gilded saddles, and the little white donkeys, could 
not pass, and the great camels lay quietly down 
with their forelegs tucked under them, stretching 
their necks toward the crowd as if wondering why 
their way was blocked, and asking .the meaning 
of all the fuss. And what was the cause of it % 
Had the Tunisians risen against their sovereign % 

If it were so, the Lamha (guards), and the 
soldiers would certainly have been occupied in 
quelling the riot but they, on the contrary, were 
talking with the people; the ofiicers in their black 


86 


FOR H18 BROTHERS SAKE. 


overcoats and red fez, ornamented with a golden 
star, passing from one group to another and evi- 
dently sharing the general sentiment ; while the 
men in the barracks were calmly knitting their 
stockings and turning an indifferent ear to the 
ever-increasing uproar. 

The crowd was surging-steadily toward' one 
point, guided by a score of mingled Arabs, Turks, 
Moors, and even Jews, for all religious distinc- 
tions were forgotten in that moment, and after 
rushing along one of the principal streets, (the Bab- 
eS“Sadonna), reached a large square, where it 
stopped in front of an immense lime- washed man- 
sion, having but few windows, a flat roof which 
was used as a garden, and a single doorway, nar- 
row, but very massive. 

It was the palace of Mourad, the Bey’s khage- 
radar (Prime-Minister). Why did the mob sur- 
round this person’s house? Was it to applaud 
or to insult him? The latter seemed the more 
likely, for several Arabs shook their fists at 
the palace, and cries of Giaour ! Giaour ! ” were 
heard. But this was a Mussulman term of re- 
proach for a Christian, and Mourad, who had long 
i)een the favorite of the Bey, was surely a disci- 
])le of Mahomet. He was accused, however, of 
l^ehaving like a Frank,- dog, a Giaour. What 
were his crimes? How had he offended? 

First of all, he had taken advantage of the power 


FOR ms BROTUFR'S SAKE. 


87 


acquired through the confidence of his sovereign, 
to burden the people with unjust taxes by which 
his own coffers were enriched ; this, however, was 
the least heinous of his misdeeds, for Tunisians, 
Egyptians, Turks, and indeed Orientals of all 
nationalities, have always been accustomed to 
see their masters grow rich at their expense. 
Mourad had done only as his predecessors had 
always done. There was a more serious complaint 
against the Prime-minister. His father, Mourad- 
pacha, had sent him in his youth to France to 
study, and in that land he had not only forgotten 
Mahometan laws and customs, but had lost his 
religious faith, through living among Christians. 
He was seldom, if ever, seen in a mosque, and 
held these sacred places in so little veneration that 
he had ordered the arrest of an assassin who had 
taken refuge in the great mosque of Djama-Sidi- 
Man’rez. 

Then, again, during the ramazan, (the Mahome- 
tan Lent), instead of passing the time in prayer 
and fasting, he went about the. city with gay com- 
panions, visited the Consuls, and even sat in Euro- 
pean restaurants chatting with the Christians. 
His private life was likewise' scandalous ; for, not 
content with having four lawful wives, and a large 
number of other women called ^^odalisques,” and 
with owning a magnificent harem which was re- 
nowned all over Tunis, and, even in Constantinp- 


88 


FOR ms BROTHERS SALE. 


pie — not content with all this (which was strictly 
in accordance with the teachings of the Koran), 
he wished also to appropriate the property of his 
neighbors, and taking the opportunity while cer- 
tain husbands were absent at their devotions he 
assumed various disguises, and made his way into 
the women’s apartments, where not even the most 
intimate of male friends was admitted. Mourad 
had committed these different crimes repeatedly, 
doing violence to every custom, idea, and predju- 
dice of the Orient ; how was it then that he -had 
never been reproached with them till now ? 

The reason for his having thus far escaped the 
righteous indignation of his countrymen, was that 
he had been a favorite of his sovereign, and no one 
had dared to complain of him. This morning, 
however, in the royal palace of Bardo, the Bey 
had ordered the Prime Minister from the presence 
and had declared him deposed from office, and 
the Tunisians, having no longer reason to fear or 
respect Mourad, had immediately remembered his 
sins, and regretted having borne their wrongs so 
patiently. The mob gathered more closely around 
the Minister’s palace, recounting his misdeeds in 
angry tones, and shaking not only their fists but 
also long sticks, while some of the negroes, chil- 
dren and Jewish women picked up stones and old 
bones and even mud, and threw them against the 
white walls of the palace. Heaving, surging and 


FOR ms BROTHER 8 SAKE. 


89 


roaring like the sea, the crowd presented a bril- 
liant scene ; turbans of every hue, Phrygian bon- 
nets, white burnuos, silken vests, and swords of 
Damascus steel glittered dazzlingly in the bright 
sunshine, reflecting golden rays. 

But, suddenly, the Western sky put on a violet 
tint, and from the midst of a group of small white 
clouds the sun, just ready to set, looked out, mak- 
ing a golden circle. Then came a sonorous, pro- 
longed cry from a neighboring minaret. It was 
the Muezzin calling the faithful to evening prayer, 
and from every one of the two hundred minarets 
of Tunis rose the same invo9ation. Instanta- 
neously, a dead silence fell over the angry crowd; 
every man, woman and child turned in the direc- 
tion of Mecca, and falling to the ground, with 
hands clasped fervently, began to pray. 

Their devotions finished, the people rose, seem- 
ing to have forgotten all about Mourad, for some 
went to the mosque to resume their prayers, and 
others walked quietly to their homes to perform 
the ablutions enjoined by the prophet. 


90 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


CHAPTEK II. 

While the Tunisians were menacing him with 
words and gestures, Mourad was lying comfort- 
ably on a large divan in the Semalik (the men’s 
portion of the house), smoking his pipe and sip- 
ping coffee from a tiny cup, which was orna- 
mented with pearls. He was about thirty years 
of age, with a clear pale complexion, long-shaped 
eyes of a bluish black hue, and thoughtful, lan- 
guid expression, a pure Greek nose, and small 
white teeth, which gleamed brightly under a full 
brown mustache. 

Opposite him sat Sivasti, his secretary, con- 
fidant and friend. This man was the son of a Moor 
and a Georgian slave, and had never been separ- 
ated from Mourad since their earliest childhood. 
The two youths had been educated at the same 
French college, and on their return to Tunis 
Sivasti had become almost as influential as his 
master. He was tall and vigorous, with square 
shoulders, broad chest, a jovial expression of face, 
and in manner was more Parisian than Oriental. 

‘What do you think of this disturbance ? ” asked 
the secretary, who in spite of the Mahometan law 
forbidding the faithful to use any spirituous 
liquors was drinking grog with evident relish. 

“I think,” replied Mourad, speaking French, 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


91 


which he generally preferred to his mother-tongue, 
‘‘ that these brawlers will soon go to their houses 
and sleep as quietly as usual.” 

“ But how about to-morrow ? Do you not fear 
another uprising of the people ? ” 

“ Oh, no; they will forget all about me. You 
do not suppose that they would dare to break into 
my house, do you 

Then, in spite of your deposition, you intend 
to remain in Tunis ?” 

“ Not I, indeed ! I have no fear of the mob, 
but I mistrust the new minister, my successor. 
He will not be able to sleep in peace while I am 
in the country, fearino^ my restoration to power.” 

“ And he is, no doubt, at this moment laying a 
plot to have you strangled.” 

“No, no, Sivasti; foreign influence^ has put a 
stop to that practice.” 

“ Then they will order your arrest, and justice 
in Tunis is very expeditious — as you know who 
have so of i en administered it.” 

IVIourad smiled as he answered : 

“ Some time ago, I foresaw this catastrophe, and 
took the precaution of putting myself under the 
protection of France.” 

“ Then we have nothing to fear,” cried Sivasti ; 
but his master corrected him : 

“There is one danger that you have not 
thought of, and that is the most difficult to 


92 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


combat — poison. One drop in a cup of coffee, or a 
glass of violet-syrup would be sufficient, and could 
not be detected. Poisoning is not a political 
crime; the Europeans can not prevent it, and I 
have not the slightest doubt that my honorable 
successor will make the greatest effort to bribe 
one of my slaves. I cannot answer for the integ- 
rity of three hundred men and women, white and 
black.” 

“You are right,” said Sivesti, sending a ring of 
smoke into the air ; “a poison will be tried. Then 
you mean to leave Tunis ?” 

“ Yes, to-night.” 

“And where will you go — to Algeria? The 
frontier is not far off.” 

“To Algeria by land? You are mad, Sivasti. 
Are you not aware that my countrymen accuse 
me unjustly of despising their customs and ancient 
practices? And yet, acting according to those 
very customs, I have deprived myself of increased 
wealth by not putting my money at interest in 
any way, and have kept it entirely in coin and 
precious stones in a few caskets. Now see how I 
am misjudged by my countrymen! AYould you 
have me travel in the desert with such baggage as 
this, Sivasti'? It would be utter madness. I 
should be relieved of my burden by the first troop 
of wandering Bedouins that caught sight of mo, 


t'Oit HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


03 


No indeed, the only safe plan is to go to France 
by sea, direct.” 

‘‘ True,” said Sivasti; “and it so happens that a 
steamer of the Yalery line leaves to-morrow for 
Marseilles.” 

“ I shall take passage in it. At about three 
o’clock in the morning I shall leave this house ; 
make straight for the lake, hire a cutter, and in 
three or four hours I shall be on board the 
steamer.” 

“ Who will go with you ? ” 

“You, Sivasti, unless you prefer to stay here.” 

“ 1 prefer to stay in Tunis ! Why, I am 
delighted at your disgrace, because it will be the 
cause of my going to Paris, which I adore ! ” 

“We shall live well, I assure you. I will dispose 
gradually of my diamonds and pearls, of which I 
know the real value. I do not hesitate to say 
that by selling my whole stock, I could realize as 
much as seven or eight million francs.” 

“ How we shall feast ! ” said Sivasti, exultingly. 
And after a few moments reflection, he said: 
“ What will you do with your three hundred slaves, 
black and white ? ” 

“ Oh, they will be easily disposed of after I am 
gone. My successor can take them as a job lot to 
set up an establishment.” 

“ But your wives — and first of all, the four ? ” 

“ Divorce is well known in Tunis, and my deser- 


94 t'OR His BROTHER'S BARE. 

tion will make them free to marry again — my 
successor is a bachelor I believe.” 

As he spoke Mourad rose slowly, and began 
walking up and down the handsomely carpeted 
room, with his arm resting on his friend’s. 

‘‘ Truly now, Sivasti, you do not expect me to 
encumber myself with all that mass of women- 
kind ! Good heavens ! What should I do with 
those dark-skinned dolls, languid, lazy, stupid, 
enervated by Oriental life? They are without 
education or brains, they can do nothing except 
smoke, eat sweetmeats and pastry, and tint their 
eyehds with kohl, and their fingers with henna. 
There are much better to be found in Paris, my 
dear fellow ; remember those we saw before we 
came away ? Instead of having one great station- 
ary harem, we can have several little movable 
ones.” 

“ Delightful ! ” cried the other ; with sparkling 
eyes ; but there are not only the four wives to 
think of ; you have also ten Circassians whom you 
have lately raised to the dignity of ‘ odalisques.’ ” 

‘‘I am not at all concerned about them; the 
men of Tunis will have no objection to marrying 
Mourad’s former wives. They will be all the 
fashion.” 

“ Then we go alone.” 

“ Hot quite. There is Fatmah.” 

“ Oh, you cannot part with her ?” 


Pon ms BRomER^s sake. 


95 


“ I could, if it were convenient, just as easily as 
with the others; but I think that she may, on 
occasion, he useful to me in Paris.” 

“ In what way 

“ I do not know exactly how, but she is beauti- 
ful in form and figure, and very intelligent. I care 
nothing for her now, while she is all devotion to 
me, and would serve me to the death. Besides all 
that, I paid a thousand bourses for her — that is, a 
hundred thousand francs, and an exorbitant price 
it was — only last year.” 

“And you do not care to leave a hundred 
thousand francs behind you, when you can carry 
it away ! Be it so, she will serve to remind us of 
the pleasures of the harem. Poor harem ! will you 
not even stay to bid it farewell ? ” 

“ If I did that, all my wives would hang about my 
■ neck at once, and I should not be able to move,” 
said Mourad; “ it will not do for me to speak of 
parting, but I wiU assemble them to witness a 
grand ballet — my last night in Tunis shall be one 
of festivity.” 

“ But will yon not first arrange your affairs and 
prepare for the voyage ? ” 

“ How European you are already ! I am one 
of the faithful; I leave all my affairs to Providence 
who takes care of such details. I have nothing 
to do but take up my jewel caskets and go when 


% 


Fon ms bbothers sake. 


the time comes. Be ready, Sivasti, at three 
o’clock, in the court of the harem. Adieu.’’ 

They parted, but in a few minutes the secretary 
came back to report that, although the crowd had 
dispersed, there was a party of Jews and Arabs 
watching the palace from a neighboring terrace, 
Mourad reflected a little and then said. 

“ Never mind ; we shall escape them, and Tunis 
will never forget our departure, I promise you.” 

The Prime Minister, Mourad-Bey, who "was as 
fond of luxury and ostentation as are all Orientals, 
had established a harem of unusual magnificence. 
It was a sort of miniature copy of the grand Serag- 
lio of Constantinople, consisting of square courts 
paved with marble, where fluted columns sup- 
ported lofty galleries, from which opened number- 
less apartments. There were spacious gardens, 
shaded by orange and olive trees, and trembling 
mimosas, polished marble basins for the bath, and 
a banquet hall with walls richly carved in Ara- 
besque, and furnished with large, soft divans of rich 
materials, and little tables made of mother-of- 
pearl. 

The inhabitants of this gorgeous palace were 
sub-divided after the manner of those in the sul- 
tan’s harem, and bore the same titles. 

First, were the four Cadinis, or lawful wives, who 
were respectively known as the “ great lady,” the 
‘^second lady,” the “ middle lady,” and the “little 


FOR EIS BROTHER'S SAKE. 


9T 


lady,” and next in order came the iJcbals, or favor- 
ites, who were numbered in the same way as the 
wives. 

The third class consisted of the gnienz-des^ 
whose name signifies, literally, “ maidens of the 
eye,” and these being very beautiful might at any 
moment be raised to the next higher rank, at the 
caprice of the lord of the harem. After these 
came the numberless slaves whose duty it was to 
wait upon those already named, to dress them, 
fan them, and accompany them when they went 
out, and for each task there was a ^ certain slave.. 
Some of these half as were formed into a ballet- 
corps and taught to dance for the amusement of 
Mourad. 

The slaves who did the hard work of the estab- 
lishment were both white and black, and gener- 
ally old and ugly, and they were never allowed 
in the presence of the master of the house. A band 
of black eunuchs acted as watchmen, and their 
chief was known by the singular title of Guardian 
of the Gate of Happiness. 

Mourad passed into the harem, after parting 
with Sivasti, and no sooner was it known that the 
master had come, than he was surrounded by his 
wives and favorites, who wept loudly, while the 
eunuchs tore their hair frantically. 

The news of Mourad’s disgrace had reached the 
harem and its inmates feared for their lord’s lib- 


98 ^OR EIS BROTHERS SAKE. 

erty and life. Mourad hastened to reassure them, 
saying cheerfully: 

It is of no consequence ; I shall be re-instated 
to-morrow, and shall be more powerful than ever. 
As for to-night, I have come to spend it 
with you in the grand banquet-hall;” and with his 
head raised proudly, a calm smile on his lips, he 
sauntered from one I'oom to another, stroking his 
brown mustache. 

The women, with the characteristic mobility of 
Orientals, passed instantly from deep despair to 
joyous confidence. Fatmah alone, the Circassian 
slave, whom Mourad had determined to take away 
with him, remained sadly silent, and at the first 
opportunity she said to him, in an anxious whisper: 

“You are deceiving us. What is the matter?” 

He leaned toward her, and with an apparently 
careless air, answered in a low tone : 

“ You are to leave the harem with me to-night. 

Get ready secretly and quickly, and then come 
back and sit by me in the banquet-hall.” 

Fatmah rose, her face radiantly joyful, and 
walked slowly away with the graceful swinging 
gait of Oriental girls; and Mourad, after giving 
orders for the feast, went alone to a room into 
which none but he had access. Here were piled 
in magnificient disorder all sorts of costly 
stuffs, embroidered scarfs, and veils of the finest 
silken gauze. In this storehouse Mourad spent 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


99 


some time, and then coming out, locked the door 
carefully, and rejoined his household. All rose 
as he entered the grand hall, and when he had 
stretched himself upon a divan, and taken his 
pipe from the hands of a beautiful slave, he 
made a sign and the dancers entered. Some of 
these were dressed in light colored satin skirts 
with richly embroidered vests; while others wore 
silken-gauze skirts fringed with gilt, scarlet satin 
scarfs, and had their shoulders bare. In their 
abundant black or brown hair, glittered tiny gold 
pieces and pins with jewelled heads. 

They were accompanied by musicians,' who 
played upon various instruments, among which 
were tambourines, and kondoums^ the latter being 
like two tambourines united, and struck with 
little sticks. In the Oriental dance the feet are 
scarcely seen to move, but the body above the 
waist waves and turns gracefully to the music, 
the, upraised arms wind and interlace, the head 
is thrown back, the red lips are parted, and the 
brilliant eyes half closed and languishing; and as 
the music quickens, the movements become more 
animated and exciting. 

The dancing was succeeded by singing, and, in 
the intervals, Mourad strolled about the room 
talking gaily with his wives and favorites, appar- 
ently calm and unconcerned, and a little drowsy. 

At about three o’clock in the morning cries of 


100 


mu HI8 BROTHER' 8 SAKE. 


terror suddenly resounded through the gorgeous 
palace, and a lurid light filled the apartments ; 
there was a strong odor of burning and loud 
shrieks of “ fire, fire ! ’’ were heard in the court 
where the slaves were gathered. 

The dancers and other women echoed the words, 
and rushed about terror stricken; but Fatmah, 
calmer than the rest, turned to Mourad for an 
explanation. 

“ I lighted a slow fuse in the storeroom,” he 
said, hurriedly, ‘‘so as to burn down this palace 
which would be confiscated to-morrow, and to 
make our flight more easy. Come.” 

He went to his private room, took three small 
chests from a secret cupboard, and giving one to 
Fatmah, and another to Sivasti, who had joined 
them, led the way out of the palace. 

The three fugitives passed unnoticed through 
the crowd in .the court-yard, as they were envel- 
oped in large houmous and had their heads 
covered by hourlcas, or hoods, and being thus ren- 
dered unrecognizable they made their way unrec- 
nized into the streets of the city. 


FOR HIS BROTHER’S SAKE, 


101 


CHAPTEE III. 

They walked in single file and without speaking 
through narrow winding alleys until they ap- 
proached the lake where the roads were wider. 

Mourad and Si vast i were in a merry humor, 
and as soon as they were able to walk side by 
side, the secretary exclaimed : 

The peojjle of Tunis complain that their city 
is not properly lighted. How unjust they are — 
see it is as bright as , day ! ” 

“ And all at my expense,” said Mourad; “ they 
ought to be satisfied.” 

They spoke French, which Mourad had had 
taught to Fatmah, and she now joined in the con- 
versation, saying : 

Do you not regret your beautiful palace ? ” 

Kegrets are useless,” returned Mourad: they 
only serve to shorten life, and if I had not burned 
my house, my successor would have been only too 
glad to appropriate it. He would not have dis- 
dained to take my chests, too. Is that one too 
heavy for you, Fatmah ? ” 

“ Ho, my lord; it seems very light, so happy am 
I at being with you.” 

It is the most valuable of the three, neverthe- 
less,” said Mourad, taking no notice of her last 
words. 


102 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


On reaching the lake they looked about for a 
boat in which to go up the canal to Goletta, the 
port of Tunis, where they could easily reach the 
French steamer. After some delay, Sivasti suc- 
ceeded in rousing a boatman, and they embarked 
and were soon in the middle of the lake. It was 
a beautiful night, warm and cloudless, the sky 
bejewelled with stars, and not a breath of wind 
was stirring. 

Far off, a light haze hung over the sea; and the 
boatman seeing it, remarked that the next day 
the lake would not be so calm as it was then. 

‘‘ That is not a cheerful prospect for us,” said 
Sivasti. But his master answered : 

To-morrow belongs to God,” piously quoting 
a Mussulman proverb, although he did not cherish 
a vestige of the faith of his countrymen. 

In an hour’s time the fugitives reached a little 
islet in the middle of the lake, from which there 
was a maginficent view of Tunis, where the white 
wallsof the houses and the domes of the mosques 
were glowing redly in the light of the conflagra- 
tion. The flames rose so high that they even 
illuminated the lake and its shores,, and on the 
sandy beach was seen a score of great red fla- 
mingoes, who stood sleeping soundly with their 
heads buried in their feathers. 

The boat now . entered the canal, along whose 
shores were seen rows of houses; and further on, 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


103 


the customs-house, arsenal, the old palace of the 
Bey, and a small fortress. 

“ What shall we do if we are stopped ? ” said 
Sivasti; “ you, yourself, gave orders that no one 
should go up the canal at night.” 

I do not flatter myself that my commands are 
obeyed,” returned Mourad; ‘‘but if by chance 
there should be one soldier awake at this hour, we 
would have to land and walk through the city. 
We should not be recognized in this garb.” 

They were not seen, however, and a few min- 
utes later had reached the port, where they 
embarked in one of the large boats which lay at 
the dock waiting to take passengers out to the 
steamer that was at anchor in the ofiing. 

The sailors on the French ship declined to allow 
the new-comers to board their vessel at such an 
unusual hour, and as in obedience to their orders 
the boatmen were moving away, Mourad and 
Sivasti sparng forward and took possession of the 
oars. In an another minute the boat was directly 
under the steamer’s ladder, and Mourad, springing 
lightly up stepped on deck, and in a stern voice 
commanded the sailors to go and awake their 
captain. 

When the latter appeared, the visitor was 
conducted to the saloon, and on the captain’s 
asking what his business might be, Mourad 
threw off his cloak and hood, and appeared in the 


104 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


rich costume of the Prime Minister, with the red 
cap and the short sabre of which the sheath and 
handle were encrusted with jewels. 

The captain of L Afrique recognized Mourad 
immediately, as he had often met him at the house 
of the French consul. 

I was not expecting this honor,” he said, with 
a bow; “ your Excellency will be kind enough to 
excuse my disordered attire.” • 

Mourad interrupted him, saying: 

‘‘FTo apologies are needed, captain, for I am 
not here in my former capacity. I have been 
deprived of office — you must have heard the 
news,” 

“ There was rumor to that effect, but I make no 
doubt that the Bey will reconsider his action.” 

‘‘Thanks for the supposition,” said Mourad 
smiling, “ but you are wrong. My successor is 
already named, and in order to escape persecution 
I am obliged to take flight to France. 

“That is easily done, your Excellency. We 
leave here at five o’clock in the afternoon. We 
reach Bone to-morrow, and after a short stop at 
Corsica, will arrive at Marseilles on Saturday.” 

“ I know all that, captian, but I dare not wait 
until the afternoon. I want you to set off at 
once.” 

“ That is impossible; my cargo is not yet on 
board, and I am also obliged to wait for the 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


105 


mails. The rules of the company are stringent, 
and I dare not break them.” 

I will pay a large sum of money to the com- 
pany — and to you, if you will oblige me in this.” 

‘‘I must refuse both for myself and for the 
Yalery company. The contracts cannot be 
broken.” 

Mourad scowled with vexation, for it had not 
occurred to him that there was an3rthing he could 
not buy. 

Can you not remain here ? They will not come 
to seek you,” said the cajitain. But Mourad shook 
his head. 

‘Tt would not do. I left home with a flourish 
of trumpets, as it were, and there will certainly 
be search made forme before you weigh anchor — ” 

‘T have an idea ! ” cried the captain, suddenly ; 
“ there is a little steamer which runs between here 
and Tripoli — you may have seen it in the harbor 
— the captain would no doubt accept your offer. 
I will ask him, if you like.” 

•‘Do so, I shall be very grateful,” said Mourad; 
“offer him whatever you think proper for the 
service.” 

“I see that you have two companions,” said 
the captain. “ I will invite them to come on board, 
and you can all have some coffee while you wait.” 

At the end of a half-hour the friendly captain 
returned, and reported that the little vessel was 


106 


FOR Ills BROTHERS SAKE. 


already getting up steam in order to accommodate 
its intended passengers. 

“ The captain can take you only as far as B6ne, 
where, however, 3 ^ou will be as safe as if you were 
in France, ” said the Frenchman ; ‘‘ and when I 
arrive there to-morrow you can, if you wish, take 
passage with me for Marseilles. ” 

“ That will suit us perfectly, ” said Mourad ; 

and as I see a number of small boats putting 
out from the shore, I suspect that we are not very 
safe at present. We had better go on board the 
Tripoli at once.” 

The captain escorted his guests to the ladder 
and bade them farewell till the next day, and at 
nine o^clock they were moving out of the harbor. 
They were only just in time for the news of 
Mourad’s escape had spread from Tunis to Go- 
letta, and the water was covered with small craft 
designed to intercept him. 

The gruff captain of the Tripoli paid no atten- 
tion to the excitement round him, but considering 
that his first duty was to his passengers, and also 
anxious to earn the promised reward, raised his 
anchor, and steamed away, capsizing several small 
boats which had gathered round him. 

First fire, and now shipwreck, accompanied 
Mourad’s departure! 

Sivasti stood up on the hurricane deck, waving 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


107 


his hand to those who were left thus unexpectedlj 
behind, and exclaimed, gleefully : 

‘^Farewell, my friends, I hope I shall never see 
you again ! Farewell to Tunis and all it contains ; 
and now for Paris, and the Parisians ! 

The little steamer passed by the ruins of ancient 
Carthage, where the chapel of St. Louis was 
gleaming in the morning sunshine, and the cap- 
tain, ordering all speed to be made, turned to his 
passengers and said, gruffly : 

‘‘ I want to pass those devilish capes which are 
between us and Bone, before the rmstral takes hold 
of us.” 


CHAPTER Y. 

The captain of the TrvpoU had good reason to 
fear the Northwest wind, for the equinoctial storm 
of 187 — made terrible havoc on the Mediterranean 
and the coast of Africa. The little steamer had 
hardly doubled Cape Bone (which was called by the 
ancients Mercury’s Promontory), when the wind 
became more violent ; the square sails were furled 
hurriedly, the vessel rolled from side to side, and 
the passengers, already ill, began to think that 
shipwreck was their doom. In reply to Sivasti’s 
lamentations, the captain remarked that in just 
such a wind, though perhaps a little more to the 
west, the A'm^r^ne was Ihst last February. She 


108 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


was a larger boat than tlie Tripoli, with a crew 
of thirty-one, while he had but seven, and the 
captain knew the coast perfectly, “which I do 
not,” said the speaker, cheerfully. 

‘“Stop!” cried Sivasti ; “what is the use of 
telling me this ? ” 

“ One must converse,” returned the captain ; “ it 
helps to pass the time.” 

“ Is there any danger for us ? What are the 
probabiLities ? ” 

“ The probabihties are that we shall go to the 
bottom. Still, there is a chance, perhaps fortune 
will favor us — ^there is no knowing. I must call 
your attention to the fact that the captain of the 
Auvergne had no advantage over us in knowing 
the coast, for he was lost just the same.” After 
a minute he sprang up, saying : “ Go down to the 
cabin — there is a white squall coming! You will 
be washed off the deck.” 

“Can anything be worse than this rolhng!” 
said Sivasti. 

“Worse!” repeated the captain; “why man 
alive, this is young lady’s weather compared to 
what we shall have before long ! ” 

The secretary, in great alarm, crept down to 
the cabin, where Mourad lay stretched on a sofa. 

“ Where is Fatmah ! ” asked the ex-minister in 
a feeble voice, as Sivasti threw himself on the 
other couch. 


FOit HIS BROTBEHS SAKE. 


109 


^^She is prostrate like ourselves in the next 
cahin, but she makes no complaint. She' has all 
the resignation that the Mussulman religion 
teaches. But we are not so happy — there is no 
cure for sea-sickness, and the captain says this is 
only young lady’s weather 1 ” 

The captain was right. At about nine o’clock 
in the evening, a terrific storm broke over the 
Mediterranean. The water deluged the steamer’s 
decks, and the Tripoli was driven along wildly 
before the waves. The captain was unable to get 
his bearings, and had no idea where he was; a 
dense fog concealed the light-houses on the shore, 
and the sounding-lead was of little use. At two 
o’clock in the morning the man on watch reported 
that the vessel was nearing the breakers;, the 
captain sprang to his side, saiv that it was true, 
and immediately made every effort to alter the 
course, but in vain. The storm was so furious 
that nothing could be done, the rudder rope broke, 
and when the anchors were lowered, the chains 
snapped suddenly, and the vessel plunged for- 
ward to the breakers. There was nothing to be 
done but to keep the vessel straight, and run her 
up on the sand with her stern to the billows, and 
in this last effort her captain was successful. 
Meanwhile, Mourad and Sivasti made two or 
three efforts to reach the deck, but such was the 
tossing and rolling of the steamer, that before 


110 


FOB HIS BBOTHERS SAKE. 


they had got half-way up the steps, they were 
thrown back again violently upon each other. 
When the Trijpoli ran on to the breakers, they 
heard the pounding of the waters, and gave them- 
selves up for lost. 

The Mussulman blood in Mourad’s veins tri- 
umphed over his European education, and he 
was calm and philosophical in the face of death. 

“We are doomed,” sighed Sivasti. 

“Very well, my friend, we can do nothing to 
prevent it,” Mourad answered, cheerfully ; but as 
he spoke the grinding and rocking ceased sud- 
denly. 

“What can be the meaning of this?” said 
Sivasti, with a gleam of hope in his eyes. 

“ Let us go up and see. I would rather die on 
deck than down in this hole,” said Mourad, care- 
lessly ; and when they reached the companion- 
way, they met Fatmah who had also left her 
cabin to seek the deck. She was pale, but per- 
fectly calm, and resigned to the decree of 
Fate. On reaching the deck, the travellers 
found that the vessel was lying on her side, and 
tlie waves were dashing over her with ever in- 
creasing violence ; the crew were obliged to cling 
to the railing of the deck. 

The captain seeing his passengers, joined th«m, 
saying : 


FOE HIS BROTHER’S SAKE. 


Ill 


^^Did I not tell you that we should have a 
storm ? ” 

“ If you had warned us a little sooner,” said 
Sivasti, we would have decided to remain in 
Tunis.” 

“ And be assassinated, or thrown into prison ! 
You are much better here — we are but a stone’s 
throw from Algeria.” 

“ I hoped we had reached French coast,” said 
Mourad, anxiously. 

“Not we, indeed!” exclaimed the captain; 
“we are on the island of Tabarka — one of my 
men knows the place — it belongs to the Bey, so 
you are at home.” 

A huge wave deluged Sivasti at that moment, 
and as he picked himself up he said, ruefully : 

“ You call this being at home?” 

“ You have nothing to complain of,” said the cap- 
tain calmly, “ for if the vessel does not turn over 
and send us all into the sea during the night, we 
shall be able to get ashore at daybreak.” 

With this prospect before them, the passengers 
and crew passed the night, clinging despairingly 
to the wreck, while the waves rose and rolled and 
dashed over them. 

When morning dawned, the captain announced 
his intention of going ashore, but Mourad ex- 
claimed dubiously : 

“We shall only be going from bad to worse. I 


112 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE, 


know the Island of Tabarka by reputation — it is 
infested with Arabs, who are no more nor less 
than thieves and assassins.” 

^^You have been in power a long time,” said 
the captain. ‘‘ 1 wonder you have not put a stop 
to their outrages.” 

“ I did not know that I was to be shipwrecked 
on this coast,” said the ex-Minister, dryly. 


CHAPTER YI. 

“ The citadel is but a short distance from here,” 
said the captain, when, with the crew and passen- 
gers, he had reached dry land at last. 

Mourad was very weary, but Sivasti tried to 
reassure him by saying that the news of his dis- 
grace could not have yet reached this obscure spot, 
and soldiers in the citadel would be proud to do 
honor to the Prime Minister. As to the Arab 
bandits, there were none in sight. Mourad and his 
two companions concealed their treasure and chests 
as best they could beneath their bournous, and 
the httle party set off toward the citadel. 

They had not gone very far, however, when a 
band of fierce-looking Arabs started up from be- 
hind the rocks, brandishing their cutlasses, and 
yelling savagely. The sailors prepared to stand on 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE, 


113 


the defensive, but at a sign from their captain low- 
ered their arms and tried to make their escape, but 
were speedily captured, bound and thrown upon the 
ground. The bandits, on approaching the rest of 
the travellers, were evidently disconcerted at 
finding, by the dress of Mourad and his two com- 
panions, that they had displayed hostility to their 
own countrymen and co-religionists, instead of to 
Europeans and base Christian dogs as they had at 
first supposed. 

Mourad, taking advantage of their dismay 
addressed them sternly, saying that he was an 
officer in the Bey’s army, and ordering them to con- 
duct him and his friends to the citadel, where they 
would be richly rewarded. His speech might 
have had the desired effect if he had not been so 
unfortunate as to put aside his bournousto lay his 
hand on his sabre. The richly jewelled hilt and 
sheath caught the eye of the bandits who gazed 
at it greedily for a moment, and then drew away 
to consult with each other and consider the 
stranger’s words. They soon arrived at the con- 
clusion that three of these travellers were clad in 
rich apparel, under their dark bournous, and that 
each carried a square chest, which must certainly 
contain jewels of priceless value. 

The poor, ragged, half-starved Arabs could not 
resist the thought of such extraordinary booty. 
Allah, the prophet, had thrown it into their way, 


114 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


and it would be folly, even impiety, to let it escape 
theni. 

While they consulted, Moura and his friends, 
with the captain and mate of the unfortunate 
Tripoli., prepared to defend themselves, the Tuni- 
sians putting the jewel chests on the ground at 
their feet, and the live persons standing in a circle, 
back to back, armed with knives and daggers. 
Fatmah picked up an axe, which one of the sailors 
had dropped, and did her share in defending her 
master’s wealth. . She had thrown off her cloak, 
her veil dropped from- her face, and she stood, 
with one foot on the precious box, her shapely 
head thrown back, her arm upraised, her dark 
hair floating over her bosom and shoulders ; her 
eyes, no longer languid, flashed fire, and her red 
lips, slightly parted, displayed the pearly teeth. 

The robbers looked at her in admiration, and 
said to each other that here was a prize worth try- 
ing for. The air resounded with their yells, which 
were answered by Mourad and Sivasti, as they 
fought, exchanging rapid blows, but the Arabs 
were gathering closer around the travellers, and 
their eyes were fixed jealously, hungrily, upon the 
chests. 

At last, one of the bandits aimed a powerful 
blow with a hatchet at one of the coveted objects, 
and split it open, scattering the jewels on the 
' ground. Gold, rubbies, sapphires, emeralds, pearls 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE, 115 

and diamonds flew about, blazing in the sunlight 
and rolling over the sand. The Arabs fascinated, 
maddened by the sight, fought on with increased 
vigor; they forgot the value of the gems and 
thought only of their brilliancy and beauty; they 
thirsted and hungered to gain possession of the 
shining stones. Another chest Avas broken, and 
than the third, and each time the same display of 
Avondrous color and brightness followed; and now 
the Arabs, creeping along the sand, snatched at 
the treasures frantically, as starving creatures 
might grasp for food. The travellers were ex- 
hausted Avith the combat, and could do no more 
than see the riches gathered up into the folds of 
the bandits cloaks, and when the Arabs had picked 
up the last jeAvel they took to flight suddenly, 
forgetting the costly sabre which had first at- 
tracted them, forgetting even Fatmah Avhom they 
had intended to take captive. 

“We might just as Avell hat^e escaped by land 
as I advised,” said Sivasti sadly, to his master Avho 
had throAvn himself upon the ground in despair. 
“ You feared being robbed in the desert, and you 
have been robbed on the sea-shore; the only 
difference is that your treasure has enriched Tuni- 
sian thieves instead of Algerians. That is some 
consolation.” 

As he spoke the captain exclaimed that a band 


116 


FOn ms BROTEER^S SAKE, 


of soldiers from the citadel was hastening to 
their relief. 

“ It would be useless for them to follow the 
brigands,” said Mourad; “for the jewels will 
have been long since hidden in the sand and the 
crevices of the rocks, and it will do me no good 
to have the theives punished, even if the soldiers 
could catch them, which they cannot hope to do.” 

“And if our troops should chance to come 
across any of the treasure, it would go into their 
own pockets, I am sure,” added Sivasti, who had 
not much opinion of his countrymen’s integrity. 

The officer with his soldiers now appeared, and 
not knowing Mourad by sight, he believed him 
to be merely what he declared himself — a civil 
functionary of high rank sent to Algeria by the 
Bey on important business, and cast on this shore 
by the storm. The ex-minister thought it prudent 
to say nothing of his loss, as this might involve 
inquiries and delay, but he requested to be escorted 
to the citadel at once. On the way Mourad re- 
marked to his secretary in a loud tone: 

“ I^ot a word must be said of this catastrophe when 
we reach France. I have the reputation of being en- 
ormously rich, and we must live in that reputation 
for a while. The jewels that I have about me 
will bring two or three hundred thousand francs, 
and we shall soon begin to make more. That 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. II7 

will not be difficult, as I am believed to be a 
millionaire — I know the Parisians.’’ 

The next day the little party set out again, and 
before sunset reached the French possessions. 

‘‘We are safe at last ! ” cried Mourad. 

“We should be still more safe if we had our 
little chests under our arms,” said Sivasti, sadly. 

“ They were dreadfully heavy ” said the phil- 
osopher with a smile of contentment. 

The travellers reached Bone without further 
adventure, and as they were standing on a quay, 
looking at the shipping, Mourad remarked sud- 
denly : 

“ How very like LAfrique that steamer is ! ” 

“ That is not very extraordinary,” said a voice 
behind them; “ since it happens to be L^Afrique 
herself.” 

They turned in surprise and beheld their friend 
the French captain, whom they had last seen at 
Tunis. 

“You here yet? ” exclaimed Mourad. 

“The storm prevented my leaving,” returned 
the captain. “ I only arrived here this morning ; I 
was very much disturbed about you, but I see that 
the little steamer behaved herself well.” 

“Oh, very well,” said Sivasti; “only that she 
has one peculiarity — she prefers the bottom of the 
sea to the surface.” 

They then related their experiences, omitting, 


118 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


however, all mention of the loss of the jewels, and 
the captain informed them that he was to leave 
Bone in an hour. 

‘‘You will have most charming traveling com- 
panions,” he said, “a distinguished artist, Mr. de 
Bussine and his daughter, Parisians.” 

“ Is she a beauty ? ” asked Mourad, eagerly. 

“ She is, indeed ” 

“ Dark or fair % ” 

“ Fair. Her hair is a warm, sunny color, and 
her eyes, heavenly blue, and with such an expres- 
sion ! ” 

“ I am very much interested in my fellow-pas- 
senger,” said Mourad, “ for I adore blondes. The 
truth is I have had too much of dark beauty — -I 
am tired to death of black hair and black eyes.” 

Fatmah, seated at a distance from the speakers, 
did not hear these words; and if she had, they 
would not have troubled her much, for in the East 
women do not expect undivided affection and 
admiration. 

“ There is their baggage going on board,” said 
the captain. “ Mr. de Bussine has a large number 
of paintings, of most of which he means to dispose 
in Paris. He and his daughter have spent the last 
three years in the Algerian desert, and are now 
going home to France.” 

“ What are the subjects of his paintings ? ” asked 
Mourad, stroking his moustache. 


FOB ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


119 


“They are chiefly landscapes, I believe, or 
studies of Algerian life.” 

“ If I like them, I may perhaps purchase of the 
artist, for I shall be furnishing a gallery in Paris,” 
said Mourad, with a grand air; and the captain 
proposing to show him to his steamer, the three 
Tunisians went on board, and were assigned to 
comfortable cabins. 

“He is impressed with the idea of my great 
wealth,” said Mourad to Sivasti, when they were 
standing on the deck. “ I told you how it would 
be — my lucky star is still in the ascendant.” 
After a pause he exclaimed, suddenly: “Look, 
those must be our fellow-travelers ! The captain 
did not exaggerate the young lady’s beauty — what 
a figure, what a smile, what glorious hair! ” 

“ Kemember you are no longer in Tunis, your 
excellency,” said Sivasti, with a warning glance 
at his master ; “ you cannot buy French women as 
you do Circassians.” 

Susanne de Bussine had indeed fulfilled the 
promise of her girlhood — her beauty, then only in 
the bud, had now attained a perfection seldom 
seen. She had reached the deck and was talking 
to the captain, in a voice which was at once full 
and sweet : 

“ I am so glad to be on board,” she said ; “ it is 
like being in France itself ! ” 

“ You long for your native land, then 1” 


120 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


Not for the land exactly, but I do long to see 
a grave that is there — my mother’s grave.” 


CHAPTER IV. 

There were but few first-class passengers, for 
many persons had been frightened by the stormy 
weather of the last few days. Experienced trav- 
elers, however, knew that after such a tempest 
the sea was likely to be very calm ; just as with 
man, a long fit of anger is apt to be succeeded 
by a state of exhaustion and quiet. Among these 
experienced passengers was a Mr. de Canot, dis- 
ciple of the famous conjurer, Robert Houdin ; this 
young man’s skill in sleight-of-hand was remark- 
able, but he made no use of it beyond amusing 
himself and his friends, as he possessed an ample 
income. There was also on board a Mr. Lionel 
Murdon, younger son of Lord Murdon, well-known 
in England as well as in Ireland, which was his 
native country. Young Lionel was a jovial fel- 
low of twenty-five, with a bright, laughing ex- 
pression ; his blue eyes veiled by long lashes, and 
his delicate, refined features makig him look per- 
haps a trifle effeminate, but the strongly marked 
eyebrows, the firm lines of the mouth, and the 
clear steady glance showed that, mingled with 


FOR ms BROTHER'S SAKE. 


121 


amiability, there was a good deal of energy and 
resolution. He had been traveling in Africa for 
both amusement and instruction, and at Biskra 
had met George de Bussine and his daughter. 
Susanne’s beauty, sweetness, and vivacity had 
made a deep impression upon him, and it was not 
mere chance that brought these two together on 
the homeward voyage. On the evening following 
that of their departure from Bone, the passen- 
gers of I^Afrique were gathered in the saloon 
where the port-holes were wide open to admit 
of a full view of the mountains of Sardinia, 
which stood sharply outlined against the purple- 
tinted sky. Lionel was seated near Mile, de 
Bussine, talking gaily about his sojourn in Africa, 
telling her of his tramps in the desert land and his 
ascents of mountains, for, like all English travelers, 
he would have thought his tour a failure if he had 
not been on the top of every eminence. She lis- 
tened with evident interest to his recital, and 
seemed to be perfectly happy at his side. 

At a little distance from the young pair, Mourad 
sat gazing at Susanne, for her blonde beauty, her 
slight graceful figure, her charm of manner, and 
quick glance of intelligence seemed to have a fas- 
cination for the Oriental, so long accustomed to a 
different style of womanhood. 

As to Fatmah, she was, with the permission of 
Mourad, posing for George de Bussine. The two 


122 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


were seated near the table, and by the light of the 
swinging-lamps the artist was painting a portrait 
of the beautiful Circassian ; she had consented to 
remove a part of her veil, and her dark, languid 
eyes, which were fixed upon the painter, seemed to 
disturb and bewilder him. He held his pencil un- 
steadily, and at times neglected to put it to the 
paper — the artist slumbered in hun, and the man 
awakened. When the steamer reached Cape Boni- 
facio, it bore away from the coast; night suc- 
ceeded the twilight, and the captain, after giving 
his orders, came down to join his passengers. 

How shall we amuse ourselves ? ” he said cheer- 
ily, it is such a beautiful night that no one will 
think of retiring early. Let us have some music, 
the piano is not bad.” 

But there were no musicians in the^company, so 
the proposition was abandoned and a game of cards 
was also declined. 

‘^Well, I know what we can do,” said the cap- 
tain, who was in the best -of spirits and not to be 
discouraged. He went up to M. de Canot, and 
after a few minutes of urging in a low tone, 
said aloud: ‘‘I knew you would kindly consent, and 
as a reward I promise that the next time you take 
passage in my ship you shall have the best cabin 
on board, and weather like to-night’s.” 

The young man rose laughingly, and said in 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


123 


response to the questioning looks of his fellow- 
passengers : 

“ I have undertaken to show you a few tricks, 
such as are practiced by card sharpers,” 

Is it possible that such ^ frauds ’ still exist ? ” 
asked Lionel. “I thought that the race had been 
extirpated.” 

‘‘ Hot by any means, I assure you. They still 
infest the clubs of Paris, and it is very seldom that 
one is detected. Their skill and quickness is 
almost incredible, for there is no card-game at 
which they cannot win, if they choose.” 

Show us some of their tricks,” said the captain, 
and Mr. de Canot, having asked the company to 
choose the game, they decided upon ecarte, as 
that was the most generally known. 

Lionel Murdon and the impromtu “card sharper” 
sat down together, and the captain produced a 
pack of cards. 

“I defy anybody here to detect me cheat- 
ing, though I shall certainly do so,” said de Canot, 
“and you have the advantage over ordinary play- 
ers of having been warned ; besides that, having 
nothing at stake, you are perfectly cool, which is 
seldom their case.” He proceeded to shuffle the 
cards slowly and carefully, but without looking at 
them, and then asked his opponent to cut. 

“I suppose you will turn up the king,” said 
Lionel. But the other answered; 


124 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


“ ITo, I prefer to have him in my hand — to turn 
him up often would excite suspicion.” 

In a few minutes he had won three consecutive 
games, without allowing his adversary to score a 
single point, and then he laid down the cards and 
gave his audience a detailed explanation of the 
various classes and grades of “ card sharpers and 
their modes of acquiring large fortunes at play. 

Mourad listened as if fascinated. George de 
Bussine was deeply and painfully interested, the 
other members of the party merely astonished and 
amused. 

“ Shall we have another game ? ” said de Canot 
to Murdon, and the latter acquiesced laughingly, 
declaring that he knew what the result would be. 

I shall give you a very good hand,” said de 
Canot, deahng the cards. “I hope you will make 
the point.” 

Not if you have the king.” 

“ Indeed, I have not got him this time; see, he is 
here at the bottom of the pack, said de Canot, 
showing the card. 

Then I wager a louis that I shall win.” 

“A louis it shall be — for the poor.” 

Lionel held four trumps and the queen of 
diamonds, but he lost the point, for his adversary 
held better trumps and the king of diamonds ! 

You see,” said the latter, smiling, “ I gave you 
good cards to make you bet high.” 


FOB BIS BBOTBERS SAKE. 


125 

‘‘ Do you mean to say, you knew every card I 
held?” 

“Every one. It was done in the dealing — see 
now — I have given you the seven of spades, king 
of hearts, ace of diamonds — is that correct ? ” 

“ Perfectly,” said Lionel; “ but you did not look 
at them.” 

“ I used what is known among card sharpers as 
the ‘rainbow deal,’ which consists in throwing 
the cards out in this way, making it describe an 
arch, and when they are at the highest point I can 
see them for an instant. Beware of the man 
who deals in that way at baccarat ! ” 

“ Can one cheat at baccarat also ? ” asked Mou- 
rad in surprise; and de Canot requesting the cap- 
tain to lend him some dried peas or beans, divided 
them among those persons who wished to play. 

“Are you going to have a regular baccarat 
bank with two tahleauxl^^ asked George de 
Bussine, watching the preparations with keen 
interest. 

“ Yes, it shall be precisely as they play at the 
Paris clubs,” replied Mourad. 

“ I see that you are acquainted with the game, 
sir.” 

“ Yes,” said George. “ I have played it.” 

“ Sit here then, please, and be the punter ” 

“ Ho, no, I do not play cards,” cried George. 


126 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


“But we are only to play for beans, not for 
money — ^you cannot object to that ! ” 

“Yes, I have made a vow not to even touch a 
card,” said de Bussine, firmly; and Mourad, observ- 
ing his agitation, said in a low tone to the 
secretary: 

“ He has touched a good many cards in his day, 
ril warrant.” 

“ Yes, there is some mystery there,” said Sivasti. 
“And I am sure his daughter could solve it. 
See how she is watching him — what a lovely 
creature she is ! ” 

The baccarat table was now ready, and the 
banker taking up a pack of cards, begged his 
adversaries to observe that he had made no prepa- 
rations whatever and had no accomplice. 

“An accomplished fraud,” he said; “can find 
numberless opportunities of marking the cards so 
that he knows every one in his opponents’ hands; 
he also makes use of the portee, or prepared pack, 
which he keeps in a secret pocket of his coat, and 
introduces in the course of the shuffling. This 
deception, however, is no longer used except in 
playing with very young or inexperienced persons. 
But a fraud of the highest order — a Philosopher, 
as he calls himself, scorns all such assistance, plays 
without any accomplice, and with cards which are 
absolutely new, and just out of their envelope. 
He has wonderful delicacy of touch, his finger tips 


FOR HIS BROTHER'S SAKE. 


127 


having been purposely made tender by the nse of 
pumice stone or some such substance, so that he 
can actually distinguish the court cards from the 
others by feeling the extra coloring matter on 
them. One of these gentlemen told me that he 
had practised for two years in front of a looking- 
glass in order to become expert in substituting one 
card for another in dealing.” 

“ "Why, Mr. de Canot,” cried one of the party, 
“ you ought to give a course of lectures on the 
subject of card sharping! Your audience would 
learn so much that they would forswear gambling 
forever, and how much misery would be spared 
to mothers and wives ! ” 

I fear it would do no good,” said the young 
man; ‘‘ all these tricks have been exposed and yet 
there is as much gambling as ever.” 

The .speaker then shuffled the cards, and the 
game began. At the end of a quarter of an hour 
every bean on the table was in one heap before 
the banker, and yet the lookers on had not been 
able to detect the slightest sign of cheating on the 
part of Mr. de Canot. 

After a few more games and explanations the 
company rose, and thanking their entertainer 
dispersed for the night. Some went to their 
cabins, and others to the deck to enjoy the soft 
balmy air a little longer. They were now pass- 
ing Corsica, and its long chain of mountains 


128 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE, 


rose in superb distinctness toward the starry sky. 
Susanne stood at her father’s side and whispered 
lovingly : 

“ Poor, dear papa, how you have been deceived 
and robbed ! I am so thankful that that part of 
your life is over forever ! ” 

Mourad was sitting alone at the stern of the 
vessel, with his elbows on the railing, and his 
head in his hands. He was plunged in revery — 
perhaps thinking how he might replace his lost 
fortune. 


CHAPTER Y. 

After lying at anchor for two hours off Ajaccio, 
the French steamer turned toward Marseilles. 
As the time for parting drew near, Mourad, now 
completely infatuated by the beauty of Susanne, 
resolved to make sure of seeing her again. For 
this purpose, he addressed George de Bussine on 
the subject of his art, saying: 

“ I have not ventured to ask you to show me 
any of your paintings, Mr. de Bussine; but I under- 
stand from the captain that they are master- 
pieces. Perhaps you will let me see them when 
we reach Paris. I expect to be absent from my 
native land for some years, and I should be glad 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE, 


129 


to have some landscapes or scenes of Eastern life 
to remind me of it. I do not speak out of mere 
curiosity, but would be glad to purchase such 
pictures at a good price.” 

George de Bussine was delighted with Mou- 
rad’s proposal. 

“ I shall be only too glad, your excellency,” he 
said, ‘‘to show you my paintings ; and if any of 
them should happen to please you, I would not 
exact a very high price, as my name is, as yet, 
almost entirely unknown.” 

“That would not influence me in the least,” 
said Mourad; “ for when I happen to like a picture, 
I never ask the artist’s name — unrecognized 
talent is just as acceptable to me as that which is 
celebrated.” 

De Bussine bowed his acknowledgements of 
this delicate compliment, and asked the ex-minis- 
ter where he could be found in Paris. 

“ I do not know as yet,” replied Mourad. “ But 
if you will kindly give me your address I shall 
be pleased to call upon you.” 

“Unfortunately, I have no address at present,” 
said George. “ I cannot say where I shall take up 
my abode, as I have been absent from Paris for 
three years.” 

“Well, call upon me at the Grand Hotel next 
week,” said Mourad ; and then he observed that 
if agreeable to Mr. de Bussine, the Circassian girl. 


180 


FOR ms BBOmER'S SAKE. 


Fatmah, should resume her sittings, as soon as the 
artist had secured a studio. 

The prime minister, with his usual shrewdness, 
had long ago perceived that the brilliant beauty 
of his slave-girl had made a deep imj)ression upon 
the artist, and he was willing to profit by any cir- 
cumstance which might tend to produce oppor- 
tunities for his OAvn closer acquaintance with 
Susanne. 

Fatmah, herself, he regarded merely as a piece 
of property, for which he had paid a high price ; 
but he gave no thought to her personal feelings, 
having long since grown tired of the languid 
beauty -of the Orient. While Mourad was thus 
arranging matters with her father, Susanne was 
seated at the other end of the deck talking with 
Lionel Murdon. 

“ Do you mean to say,” cried the young man 
suddenly, “ that we must never see each other 
again, after all the delightful hours we have 
passed together under tents in the desert, or in 
the shade of the palm trees ? Demember how we 
kept on meeting, as if it were our fate to be to- 
gether — and now you calmly tell me we must 
part forever.” 

“ What would be the use of our meeting,” she 
said sadly, “ when our lives lead in opposite direc- 
tions. Bemember that when we first knew each 
other, I was but a child, and you were my merry 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


131 


companion ; we were happy together it is true, but 
in three years the child has become a woman. 
Calm reflection tells me that our spheres in life 
are not the same, and we must therefore be stran- 
gers to each other.’’ 

“ But why,” he said, impatiently ; and before he 
had time to say more, she continued gently : 

‘‘ Think of your family, what would they say of 
a penniless French girl, the daughter of an obscure 
artist ? ” 

“He will not always be obscure,” said the 
young man. 

“ Perhaps not, if . he continues to work ; but I 
fear that the distractions of Paris may be too 
powerful for him. He has always worked as much 
from necessity as from a true love of his art.” 

“ But he will never play again, I am sure. You 
heard how decidedly he spoke to Mr. de Canot in 
the saloon.’’ 

“ Alas ! ” said the girl, sighing ; “ the fact of his 
being so emphatic is just what makes me dread a 
return of his infatuation. It is as if he mistrusted 
hi in self, and tried to strengthen his resolution by 
constantly recalling it. If he were entirely cured, 
all this would be unnecessary.” 

“ In fact, you live in constant dread, Susanne, 
just as your poor mother did and as she assented 
silently to his words, he whispered tenderly : “ do 


132 


SIS bhothees sake. 


not send me away, dear, yon may need a friend — 
Avho knows.’’ 

She held out her hand to him, and said with a 
soft smile : 

You are right, Lionel, and I could have no 
truer friend than you. You will come to see me 
whenever you are in Paris, and I shall always 
welcome you after your travels. You will be 
sedate and serious then, probably married.” 

“ Cruel, cruel ! ” cried he, and the girl murmur- 
ing, cruel to myself ! ” turned away from him 
to hide her tears. 

Early the next morning, George de Bussine 
and his daughter arrived in Paris. He was fully 
acquainted with the details of the trial and convic- 
tion of his brother Lucian, for a Paris newspaper 
had accidently fallen into his hands, and he would 
have instantly returned home, if he had not re- 
ceived a letter from his brother, who commanded 
him in the most imperative terms to remain where 
he was. 

Lucian assured him that his confession of guilt 
would have no result .other than the disgrace of 
his child to whom he was bound to devote him- 
self. Lecomte added that in all probability he 
would be able, by his good conduct in prison, to 
have the period of his detention shortened. After 
a short struggle, George promised to obey, and 
Lucian’s mind was at rest. He continued to write 


FOR EIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


133 


letters of counsel and encouragement to his brother, 
and still more often loving and paternal ones 
to Susanne, who never had the least suspicion of 
the dreary place in which the welcome lines were 
penned. 

In the third ^mar of their sojourn in Africa, 
George de Bussine received a line from his brother, 
who ordered him to return home at once, and to 
telegraph on their arrival to Mr. Petit-homme, 
who would meet them at the railway station and 
conduct them to their new domicile. On reaching 
Paris, Susanne caught sight of CaBsarina’s little 
figure on the platform, and, hastening toward her, 
embraced her lovingly. 

‘‘Where is my father, Lucian ? ” she asked, and 
Mrs. Petit-homme answered, slowly : 

‘•You will see him to-morrow, my dear child; 
we did not expect you until then. Your uncle 
has been traveling on business. He left the Bank 
some time ago and took another position, which 
has often obliged him to leave Paris ; and, although 
most anxious to see you, he is_ unable to reach 
here to-day.’’ 

Cornelius Petit-homme now appeared, with the 
largest of traveller’s trunks upon his broad 
shoulders. When they, were all seated in the 
carriage, and Caesarina had expressed her rapture 
at the grace and beauty of Susanne, Mr. de 
Bussine asked where they were going. 


134 


FOE HIS BEOTHFE’S SAKE. 


“ To Montmartre,” returned Mrs. Petit-homme, 
‘•where Mr. Lucian has hired a comfortable little 
house for you in a quiet neighborhood. There is 
a fine studio in it.” 

“ What a good idea,” cried Susanne, “to choose 
Montmartre. We shall be so near the cemetery; 
I can go there every day.” 

She then plied Caesarina with questions re- 
specting her mother’s grave, and was pleased to 
hear that it had been carefully tended. After an 
hour’s drive, they stopped before an unpretend- 
ing, though attractive looking, little house. * 

The young girl ran up the stairs to the second 
story, went into one of the rooms, and looked 
around in amazement. It was an exact reproduc- 
tion of the chamber in which her mother died. 
She recognized the curtains and furniture, the pic- 
tures, books and ornaments, all arranged in their 
proper order, just as Susanne had seen them last. 
She sat down on the sofa and burst into tears, 
while Caesarina stood in the doorway, feeling 
proud of her work, which had been in accordance 
with Lucian Lecomte’s strict instructions. After 
a few minutes Susanne rose, and following Caes- 
arina into the adjoining room, she beheld with 
delight all those objects which she had been so 
grieved to part with on leaving her childhood 
home. 

“ Ah, Uncle Lucian,” she cried, smiling through 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


135 


her tears, is all your doing. Why do you not 
come to me now, that I may put my arms around 
your neck and thank you for your goodness?” 

She then set out for the Cemetery, accompanied 
by Mr. Petit-homme, while George de Bussine 
seized the opportunity to ask CaBsarina for news 
of his brother. 

“ Why does he not come to us ? ” said de Bussine. 
‘‘I supposed that he had been liberated.” 

His term has been shortened,” said the woman, 
‘^on account of his good conduct ; but he will not 
be able to leave until to-morrow noon, when he 
will come directly here.” 

“ Thank Heaven ! ” said the brother ; ^‘his mar- 
tyrdom is ended at last.” 

It has been a long one,” said Caesarina drily. 

She had given her word of honor to Lucian 
Lecomte that she would not in any way let 
George suspect that she knew his secret ; yet she 
could not deny herself the satisfaction of making 
him realize how much his brother had suffered 
for him. 

I saw Mr. Lucian yesterday,” she said ; and 
the other exclaimed in surprise : 

“ Did you go all the way to Melun to visit 
him ? ” 

^‘Ho, indeed, Mr. George; my husband and I 
have been living at Melun for the last three years. 
You must know,” she returned, “that, after losing 


136 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


Mr. Lucian, Cornelius and I found that, instead 
of making money on the Bourse, we were steadily 
losing; our little fortune did not grow as it used 
to, and one day my husband said to me, ‘my dear, 
I have a great mind to take a position as Confec- 
tionaire? ‘ What is that ? ^ said I ; and he told me 
that it was a man who superintended the work of 
the inmates of a prison, or other public institu- 
tion. When I asked him how he could get such a 
position, he replied that he had already found 
one, for the supervisor of the basket-makers at 
Melun had just died. Then I understood that 
Cornelus had applied for this situation for the 
purpose of being near Mr. Lucian, and making 
some money. I opened my arms to embrace the 
dear man, and allowed him to lift me up and give 
me a kiss. He deserved that for having ac- 
cidentally hit upon such a good idea. We have 
been at Melun ever since, and, although I have 
not been allowed to live in the prison, I have 
often seen your brother, who was appointed our 
bookkeeper.” 

“How devoted to him you have been,” said 
George. 

“ It was only our duty,” she replied ; “for he 
would not have been in prison at all, if we had 
not refused to lend him the money he asked 
of us.” 

“ He asked money of you ? ” 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


137 


“Yes; when he found that his safe had been 
robbed, he. came and asked us for a loan to save 
him from ruin, and we let him go away empty- 
handed, miserable misers that we were ! ” 

She clasped her hands remorsefully, and then 
went on : 

“ Since the day we first saw him dressed in the 
prison uniform, with his hair and beard shaved off, 
his face as pale as death, and his hollow eyes 
looking at us so sadly from behind the iron bars, 
we have thought of nothing but of relieving his 
misery. We have been able to do him only small 
services, however, such as sending his letters to 
you and to Susanne, taking care of your wife’s 
grave, and hiring and preparing this house for 
you.” 

“ Is my brother much changed,” said George. 

“ Changed ! ” she cried ; “you will hardly recog- 
nize him. I must remember to tell Susanne that 
he has had a serious illness, for she will be 
shocked to see him without his hair and beard, 
and pale and wasted like a skeleton Poor man, 
he has had nothing to nourish him — a little thin 
soup, with dry bread and potatoes. Dr a few beans, 
have been his dinner for the last three years. On 
Christmas Day and other holidays, a morsel of 
beef, and never any tea or coffee. Nothing but 
plain water three times a day; this is how your 
brother has lived. But worst of all, he has not 


138 


FOB HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


been allowed tobacco in any form — he who is so 
fond of smoking — think of that, Mr. George.’’ 

Could you not have given him some tobacco 
without its being known ? ” 

He would not have taken it,” she exclaimed; 
‘^he would not break one of the prison rules. 
Hot that he was afraid of punishment ; indeed, if 
he had not had a noble motive and an heroic spirit, 
he need not have gone to prison at all.” 

What do you mean ? ” said George, tremulous- 
ly; and Caesarina looked at him fixedly, as she 
answered : 

I nueaWthat I have long thought your brother 
was suffering the penalty of another’s crime.” 

George de Bussine made no reply to Cassarina’s 
last words, and a long pause ensued. 

“ Mr. Lucian,” observed the woman at last, ‘‘has 
by his good conduct, won the confidence of the 
prison officials, who allow him as many privileges 
as possible. This has roused the jealousy of some 
of his fellow-prisoners, and they have for a long 
time tried to injure him, by accusing him of 
various small misdemeanors. They have not. yet, 
however, succeeded in doing him harm, and to- 
morrow, thank Heaven ! he will be beyond their 
reach.” 

At this moment, Susanne entered the room, 
exclaiming : 

“Oh, why does not my father Lucian come. 


FOR EI8 BROTHERS SAKE 


139 


that I may thank him for all his goodness ? He 
has taken such care of dear mamma’s grave — it is 
covered with most beautiful flowers ! ” 


CHAPTEE YI. 

Cornelius Petit-homme, on returning to his 
duties in the prison work-rooms, took the first 
opportunity to lean over his book-keeper and say 
in a low tone, “ they have come !” 

Lucian Lecomte exclaimed, joyfully: 

“Have you seen them ? Are they well ?” 

“Yes, perfectly well,” returned the other; “in- 
deed, your brother seems to have grown younger, 
and Susanne is the most beautiful creature I have 
ever seen; she has grown and improved so much 
that you will hardly know her.” 

“ Hot know her?” repeated Lucian, with his sad 
smile. “ Indeed, I should be able to recognize her 
among a thousand women; for three long years 
I have never ceased to see her — I have watched 
her growing and becoming more lovely day by 
day. In the midst of my dreary nights she has 
been the bright, shining star which has consoled 
and cheered me ” 

“Well, you will see your star to-morrow,” said 
Cornelius ; and the other added, with a sigh : 


140 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


“It seems as if I can hardly wait so long.” 
After a pause Cornelius asked : 

“ Have your enemies here given you any more 
trouble ? ” 

“ Ho,” said Lecomte ; “ for the two ringleaders, 
Sagot, the cabinet-maker, and Brazier, the notary, 
were sent to the Hall of Discipline yesterday.” 

“ And before they are let out,” said Cornelius, 
with an air of satisfaction, “you Avill be far away 
from here, and have nothing more to fear.” 

The Hall of Discipline was a large, low, badly- 
lighted room, with white-washed walls, and its 
only furniture a row of wooden stools. At one 
end of the room, behind a grating, sat the wardens 
in charge, while tlm prisoners marched round 
slowly in single file, keeping step with each other, 
and conversing only by stealth when the guards 
were not looking. Every ten minutes the men 
were allowed to sit down on the stools, but were 
obliged to keep their bodies perfectly erect, their 
feet together, and their hands resting on their 
knees. At the end of five minutes they were 
ordered to resume the dreary march, and this 
lasted from six o’clock in the morning until eight 
at night. 

It was now nearly seven o’clock in the evening, 
and Lucian Lecomte’s two enemies, Sagot and 
Brazier, were marching round this Hall with 
many of their comrades. When they reached that 


FOR ms BROTHER'S SAKE. 141 

part of the room which was most distant from 
the guards, Sagot whispered to Brazier, who was 
just in front of him : 

“ Lecomte will leave to-morrow.” 

“Yes,” said the ex-notary, without turning his 
head, “ unless we can think of some way of keep- 
ing him here.” 

The guard behind the grating called out sternly: 
“One, two — one, two — left, right — left, right!” 
But when the procession had passed the officers, 
the two prisoners resumed their whisper. 

“I hate Lecomte,” said Brazier, “for he has 
been twice put above me. At La Grand Eoquette 
he took my place in the Library, and here he has 
been made book-keeper in the work-rooms — but 
for him I should have had the place. Besides 
that, we have both applied to have our term short- 
ened, and of course his petition was granted and 
mine refused. If he could only be compelled to 
remain here, I donT know what I would not 
give ! ” 

“ It would be better for you if you did know, 
for then you could tell me, and perhaps I could 
think of some plan,” said Sagot. 

A short pause followed and the notary replied : 

“ I received a lot of tobacco yesterday, two 
pounds of each kind for smoking, snuffing, and 
chewing. I will give you all of it, every ounce, 
if you will get him in some scrape.” 


142 


FOR BIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


“ Done,” said Sagot ; and at that moment the 
bell rang, and the prisoners were marched off to 
bed. 

It was the last night Lecomte had to spend in 
jail, and the thought that he was so soon to see 
his brother and his darling niece, kept him awake 
until nearly daybreak. Visions of the beautiful 
Susanne flitted through his mind. He seemed to 
see her arms extended lovingly toward him, her 
sweet voice murmuring his name ; but suddenly 
a fearful doubt rose within him, and his heart 
sank with a vague apprehension of disappointment 
and despair. At five o’clock he arose from his 
narrow cot, and resumed his customary duties in 
the work-rooms. Sagot, who had been released 
from the Hall of Discipline, gave him a sinister 
glance as he passed by ; but Lucian, whose spirit 
had risen again with the return of day, paid no 
attention to him. 

At half -past ten o’clock in the morning Lecomte 
was summoned to the Superintendent’s room, and 
never was an order more joyfully obeyed. Mr. 
Boulard received him with a grave expression of 
countenance and said : 

I am surprised Lecomte, after all the favor I 
have shown you, and the trouble I have taken to 
procure your discharge, to find that you have 
been endeavoring to injure me.” 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


143 


‘‘ I, sir ? ” said Lucian, in the most profound 
astonishment. 

‘‘Yes, you,” returned the other, sternly. “I 
see that you have been writing to the newspapers. 
I have just received from Paris an article signed, 
^Lucian Lecomte.^ convict in the Penitentiary of 
Melun: ” 

Lucian would have protested, but the Superin- 
tendent went on. 

“ The greater part of the article is taken . 
from a report which I had made out to forward 
to the authorities at Paris ; it was lying on 
the table when you came in here to help me 
with some accounts ; the rest of the article is 
taken from tbe book on that shelf. You had no 
right to send this article without my permission, 
and above all to sign it in that way. A convict 
to be writing to the newspapers ! What can the 
Minister think of the discipline maintained here ? 
Doubtless this article is the cause of your dis- 
charge not being yet signed.” 

“ ]^ot signed ? ” cried Lucian, who had until 
now stood silent and motionless, as if stunned. 

“ I have not yet received it,” said Mr. Poulard. 
And at the sight of the man’s agonized counte- 
nance, he was moved with pity. 

“ Come, be frank with me,” he said ; “ how did 
you manage to send the article out of this place 
to a Paris newspaper ? ” 


144 


j^OR H18 BROTHERS SAKE. 


Lecomte replied in a firm voice : 

I have never written an article for a news- 
paper — I swear to 3^ou that I know nothing about 
it. Do you suppose that I would be so foolish as 
to run such a fearful risk ? Do you think that I 
am anxious to proclaim my wretched position to 
the world ? ” 

The Superintendent could not help being im- 
pressed by his words and manner. 

“ It is a conspiracy,” continued Lecomte. 

Some one is trying to be revenged on me.” 
Whom do you suspect ? ” 

There are two men here, who have for some 
time been trying to injure me.” 

‘‘ Who are they ? ” 

‘^Brazier, the ex-notary, and Sagot,” replied 
Lecomte. • 

The Superintendent reflected for a few minutes, 
and then ordered that Brazier should be brought 
before him. 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


145 


CHAPTEE YII. 

The ex-notary soon appeared, holding his cap 
in his long bony fingers, and walking with a 
peculiar shuffling gait. He wore -spectacles, 
through which his watery little eyes leered slily ; 
and his red eyelids were without lashes. 

The superintendent addressed him, sharply : 

“ I sent for you to come to this room last week. 
Brazier, to tell you that I could not procure your 
discharge. While you were here, some one 
knocked at the door, and I went into the hall, 
leaving you standing near the table; you were 
quite alone in the room, and I saw you take up 
my report and read it. I have heard of your re- 
markable memory, and know that you made use 
of it to write an article on Prison Management, 
which you sent to a Paris newspaper, signed with 
Lecomte’s name.” 

Brazier’s face expressed complete surprise at 
this sudden accusation. 

^A¥hy should I have done such a thing?” he 
asked. 

And the Superintendent answered : 

“ With the idea perhaps of injuring a comrade, 
against whom you have long had a grudge.” 

Brazier looked at Lecomte. 

“ I have never wished to injure him,” said the 


146 


FOR EIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


ex-notary, shaking his head with humble air. 

On the contrary, he has been persecuting me. 
For three years I have had to bear everything 
from him, and I have never complained, although 
he has taken every advantage of his position to 
find fault with me. He has complained to Mr. 
Petit-homme of my laziness, and has had me pun- 
ished unjustly several times. I assure you, sir, 
that I am the victim, and not he.” 

The superintendent shook his head, saying : 

‘‘I know very well that you have long been 
envious and jealous of Lecomte, and I do not 
believe that anything could induce him to break 
one of the rules of the prison. He has never yet 
done so to my knowledge, and it is not likely that 
he would begin now, when he is on the point of 
leaving the place.” 

Lucian cast a look of gratitude at the speaker, 
who, however, signed him to be silent, and Brazier 
went on : 

“ Perhaps he thought to attract attention and 
rouse public interest in himself by giving expres- 
sion to lofty sentiments.” 

‘‘How do you know what the sentiments of 
the article are ? ” cried the official, “if you have 
never seen it.” 

The man replied without the least embar- 
rassment : 

“ You have just told me, sir, that it was copied 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 

from one of your reports, so I know that its sen- 
timents must be noble and generous.” 

Not being permitted to continue this compli- 
mentary speech, Brazier took a diiferent tone. 

“ Even if I had written the article,” he said, “I 
should not have been able to send it away, for I 
am not hand and glove with supervisors of work- 
rooms and their wives as some people are.” 

‘‘You may go,” said the superintendent. 

And when they were again alone, he turned to 
Lecomte, with a grave face. 

“ It cannot be denied,” he observed, that you, 
being so intimate with Petit-homme, have greater 
facilities for sending letters and other things out 
of the prison than any one else.” 

“ But I did not write the article,” cried Lucian, 
in desperation. “ I swear to you I never heard 
of it before to-day. Oh, pray believe me, sir, and 
get me my discharge. It is terrible to have 
liberty come so near, and then slip away again.” 

Tears rolled down his cheeks, and Mr. Boulard, 
deeply moved, said gently : 

“I will go to Paris to-morrow — myself — and 
see what can be done for you, so try to be patient 
and brave.” 

Meanwhile the ex-notary was taken back to the 
Avork-room, where he saw his confederate, Sagot, 
sitting on the floor in a corner, Avorking diligently. 
He soon contrived to find a place beside him and, 


148 


FOH ms BHOTHm S SAKE, 


as the two sat weaving busily, Brazier said in a 
low tone« 

“ My plan has succeeded for the present, but his 
discharge may arrive at any moment, and then he 
will go, and you will lose your tobacco. If, how- 
ever, you can succeed in keeping him here, I will 
not only give you the tobacco, but I will also 
solemnly promise to pay you five thousand francs 
as soon as we have served our term.’’ 

At that moment Lucian Lecomte entered the 
work-room and took his accustomed place. He 
was tortured by the thouglit that Susanne would 
wonder at his continued absence, and as soon as 
Mr. Petit-homme appeared he wrote a few lines 
to his niece, saying that he had been unavoidably 
detained. 

“ I shall be going away in ten minutes,” said 
Cornelius. “ I have only to give some directions 
and explanations to my successor, and then I will 
carry your note to Susanne.” 

Soon after he had taken his departure loud 
cries were heard at the other end of the room, 
and the warden in charge ran to see what had 
happened. Finding that two of the men were 
fighting fiercely, he rang for his assistants, while 
most of the other convicts gathered round 
excitedly. Even the new supervisor ran out of 
his office, leaving Lecomte alone; the latter 
did not stir from his place until he heard the 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


149 


warden shouting for help, and then he started 
up; but at the same instant a dozen armed assist- 
ants rushed into the work-room and seized and 
bound the combatants, while the other men slunk 
back to their places. A dead silence followed; 
the new supervisor returned to his desk with his 
book-keeper, and in a few minutes, wishing to 
make some notes in his memorandum book, turned 
to the spot where he had left it, and was dumb- 
founded to find it had disappeared. 

He naturally suspected Lecomte of stealing it, 
as he alone had been in the office during the 
recent excitement, and Mr. Boulard was sum- 
moned to the work-room to investigate the matter. 
Lucian could do no more than assert his innocence, 
but all the other men asserted their’s with equal 
vehemence, and the superintendent, puzzled at 
the mystery, caused every one of the convicts to 
bo strictly searched, and then put into the cells in 
punishment for their having left their places 
during the fight. 

The supervisor, having declared that his note- 
book contained ten thousand francs with which 
he had intended to make some important pay- 
ments, Mr. Boulard thought it advisable to write 
and inform the authorities that a serious robbery 
had taken place in the prison. It happened that 
the person to whom the letter was written was 
absent fron Melun at the time, but one of his 


150 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


assistants hastened to act as deputy, He was a 
young man of about twenty-six years, who had 
begun his career as a lawyer in Paris, but not 
being successful in his profession had, through the 
influence of his friends, obtained a position in the 
ofiice of the public-prosecutor. This young and 
inexperienced, but very zealous, personage made 
up his mind to solve the mystery of the lost note- 
book, and to fix the guilt on one of the convicts. 
After a long search, in the course of which most 
of the furniture in the ofiice of the work-room 
was demolished, his perseverance was rewarded, 
for in a small, skilfully-concealed cavity in the 
table which Lucian had been using, the missing 
article was found. 

The young deputy could not be expected to 
know that the cavity had been made long ago by 
a convict how discharged, and that Sagot had 
accidentally discovered it. H either could he know 
that the former cabinet-maker had availed him- 
self of the confusion caused by the fight in the 
work-room, to earn the coveted tobacco and the 
promise of five-thousand francs, by thrusting the 
supervisor’s note-book into the hiding-place. 

When the officious young man went into 
Lecomte’s cell and began questioning him brusque- 
ly, the latter’s patience gave out ; after three 
years of self-repression he felt that his stock of 
patience was exhausted, and he, who had once 


FOR HIS BROTHER'S SAKE. 


151 


voluntarily submitted to injustice, rebelled at that 
which was now forced upon him. At the time of 
his trial he had been reserved and calm, fearing 
to criminate his brother ; but now George was in 
no danger, so Lucian defended himself with an 
indignant energy, which was all the more violent 
for having been so long controlled. Unhappily 
for him, his attitude impressed his listeners un- 
favorably as being insolent and defiant, and the 
result of the investigation was that Lucian 
Lecomte, instead of being discharged, was ordered 
into solitary confinement while awaiting the next 
session of the Court of Assizes. 


152 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


PART THIRD. 


CHAPTER I. 

Mourad had now been in Paris for six months, 
and had certainly made the most of his time. 
He had rented a handsome mansion, standing in 
spacious grounds, and had had it sumptuously 
decorated and furnished. He had renewed his 
acquaintance with all those persons of the high- 
est standing whom he had met during his fre- 
quent visits to France, and had been pleased, 
though not surprised, to find that his official 
troubles with the Bey of Tunis did not in the 
least deprive him of public esteem. On the con- 
trary, his manner of leaving his country, his 
setting fire to his palace, and giving his three 
hundred wives their liberty, was considered an 
original and brilliant feat, and added greatly to 
his renown. Those persons who had eeen him in 
Tunis, answered for his colossal wealth, and this 
fact, even more than his fine appearance and 
genial manner, soon made him extremely popular. 
Women welcomed him to their drawing-rooms, 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE, 


153 


and men urged him to join their clubs ; but to the 
lat ter he at first returned a negative reply. 

What would be the use of a club to me he 
said. “ Those in which cards are not allowed are 
very dull affairs, and baccarat has no attractions 
for me, as I never play ; I hold gambling in 
detestation.’^ 

‘‘But you would enjoy watching the games,” 
persisted his new friends ; “ for you would lose 
nothing, and would be amused at our expense.” 

He yielded at last to their solicitations, and 
became a frequent visitor at certain clubs where 
baccarat was played ; his popularity continued to 
increase, for his purse was ever open to relieve 
the distress of unlucky players, and he even came 
to the rescue or bankrupt managers of baccarat 
rooms. 

On many occasions he volunteered the most 
prudent counsels and friendly warnings to inex- 
perienced players, assuring them that sooner or 
later they Avould lose their all, and telling them 
that if they must play, to beware of the “ frauds.” 

“ Those pests,” he said, “ will not dare to reap 
their harvests when I am present, for they know 
that a calm, collected looker-on like me would in- 
evitably detect their tricks ; they know, too, that 
I would not hesitate to expose their knavery, and 
have them turned out-of-doors. So, my young 


154 


FOR HIS BROTHER'S SAKE. 


friend, if you can not resist the fascination of 
baccarat, play only when I am present.’’ 

In a very short he had acquired such influence 
in the clubs, that a candidate for admission had 
only to be introduced as a friend of Mourad-Bey’s, 
to be instantly admitted to the charmed circle. 

The secret of all the success and wealth of the 
once deposed and despoiled minister, will best be 
explained by an account of his movements during 
a single day. 

On the twelfth of March, Mourad-Bey rose as 
usual at about noon, and having been dressed by 
his valet, smoked several cigarettes before the 
fire, and partook of a delicate, though rather hasty, 
breakfast. At precisely three o’clock, he went 
out in his carriage, which was a very elegant 
though simple coupe, with two English trotters, 
a coachman in dark livery, and everything in 
perfect taste. 

Mourad drove first to the Bois-de-Boulogne, 
and on nearing the lake descended from his car- 
riage and walked around a little, bowing to his 
acquaintances, and occasionally stopping to con- 
verse. At the end of a half hour, he got into the 
coupe again, and the coachman, without seeming 
to need any directions, drove straight to the Hue 
du Eanelagh and entered a courtyard, whc^e 
gate was immediately closed behind him. Mou- 
rad now ascended the steps of a small house 'of 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


166 


Moorish design, and went into the drawing-room. 
It was here that he had established Fatmah the 
Circassian, but she was seldom alone, and indeed 
her position was not very different from that 
which she had formerly occupied in the harem at 
Tunis. The brilliant beauty of Mourad’s slave- 
girl, the gorgeousness of her Oriental costume, 
and the luxury and splendor of her abode, had 
long ago been noised abroad, and attracted many 
a curious visitor. 

At about five o’clock, Mourad-Bey went to one 
of the most fashionable clubs of Paris, and as he 
entered the baccarat-room several persons gath- 
ered round him, exclaiming : 

‘‘The banker has been obliged to renew the 
bank three times !” 

Just as the new-comer approached the table, 
the bank was put up at auction, and it was soon 
sold for two hundred louis to a middle-aged man, 
who was generally known as a very lucky player, 
though no one thought of doubting his integrity ; 
he never staked, and never took the deal more 
than once in an evening. He was as fortunate as 
usual on this occasion, winning repeatedly, until 
his gains amounted to twenty thousand francs, 
and then, declaring himself satisfied, he left the 
house. Soon after this, Mourad also took his 
departure, going straight to another club, and 
before he had been there many minutes a tall. 


156 


FOB HIS BBOTHERS SAKE. 


good-looking young man rose with an off-hand 
air, and took the bank. 

“Take care, gentlemen,” he said, laughingly; 
“I am in lucky vein to-day.” 

“ We do not want so much music ! ” he was an- 
swered gaily, and in spite of his boast, he lost 
three times in succession. He took a new pack 
of cards, however, shuffled them slowly and 
carefully under the pretext of changing his luck, 
and succeeded in clianging it so effectually that 
he rose from the table several thousand francs 
richer than he had sat down. 

“ That is enough,” he cried, throwing down the 
cards; “ I have earned my dinner ! ” 

“ And his supper too ! ” added one of the vic- 
tims. ' 

In the third club that Mourad visited, it so 
happened that he witnessed another victory on 
the part of an amateur banker, but as it was now 
seven o’clock he repaired to the dining-room, 
where he took his seat at a small table near which 
were several of his friends, the most distinguished 
members of the club. Having dined sumptu- 
ously, he went about nine o’clock to the opera, 
where he had bought a seat for the season. 

As soon as the ballet was over, he left the 
house, sent his carriage home, and made the 
rounds of a certain set of clubs as before, and at 
three in the morning he went into the street 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 157 

again, called a cab, and directed the driver to 
take him to a small house in the Avenue de Yil- 
liers. ^ 

A gaslight was burning in the hall, and Mourad 
went up the stairs to a comfortable-looking little 
room, where was spread an excellent supper. 

At last I ’’ said Sivasti, his former secretary, 
as the ex-minister entered the room, and the two 
then sat down at the table. 

I could not get here any sooner,” returned 
Mourad, “ for Candor did not take the deal until 
two o’clock, and I wanted to wait, so as to tell 
you just what he won.” 

“ And what was the amount of his harvest ? ” 
asked Sivasti. 

Eighteen thousand, five hundred francs.” 

Good ! I’ll make a note of it — and now let 
us have supper.” 

“ It looks a very good one — who prepared it ? ” 

“My servant,” replied Sivasti; “but you need 
not be alarmed — he is a married man, and goes 
home to his family every evening at seven o’clock, 
so he will never see you.” 

“ That is right,” said Mourad, helping himself 
to ;pdte-de-foie-gras; “it would be the 
height of imprudence to let our mutual relations 
be suspected, for I should then soon lose my 
mysterious hold on our agents. They know that 
they are watched, for you are able to teU them 


158 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


the amount of their gains to a louis every day, 
but they have no idea who does it. They are 
advised, directed, controlled, and yet not a man 
among them would be able to tell the name of 
the ” 

“ King of the ‘ frauds ! ’ ” put in Sivasti. 

‘T accept the title,” returned the other, raising 
a glass of champagne to his lips, for ever since 
the day Mr. de Canot initiated us into the mys- 
teries of the art of cheating on the steamer, I have 
been convinced that there alone is my means of 
replacing the fortune that the Arabs stole from 
me. I resolved to found a grand anonymous 
association, to create a State over which I would 
rule as do constitutional monarchs or certain presi- 
dents of republics, without compromising myself, 
and acting entirely through my ministers.” 

“ And I represent the ministers,” said Sivasti, 
getting up from the table and stretching himself 
on a long divan, with a glass of wine in one hand 
and a cigar in the other. 

“ Tell me,” he said, “ do you never feel any 
remorse ? ” 

‘‘Ko, I do not — why should I? Our religion 
teaches us to combat infidels on all occasions. 
Eead the Koran.” 

“I am willing to take your word for it,” 
returned the secretary; ‘‘ and I am quite satisfied 
if only your scheme does not bring us to ruin.” 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


159 


It cannot,” said Mourad, firmly; “ you know 
that when we first elaborated it, we provided for 
every possible catastrophe, and we are succeeding 
admirably. I have won general esteem and con- 
fidence, and have convinced every one that I 
never play, that I abhor cards; while you have 
secured the services of those ‘^frauds” that I have 
pointed out to you, and agreed with them that in 
return for large advances of cash, they come to 
you every day, report their winnings, and pay you 
exactly half. These six men are completely in 
our power, for they know that they have been 
detected and will be exposed and ruined if they 
fail to abide by their contract. At the rate we 
are going, I shall have recovered my million in 
two years’ time, in spite of my large expenses, and 
you will have your share.” 

‘‘And, meanwhile, you have all the roses of life 
and I have nothing but thorns,” said Sivasti. 

“Thorns?” repeated his master; “why, you do 
just as you like! Your duties do not occupy more 
than two hours a day, while I am obliged to spend 
a part of each afternoon and all the night in the 
clubs.” 

“ But no one insults and threatens you 1 ” 

“And no one can injure you, Sivasti. What 
could they prove against you? You never play at 
cards, besides that, you forget my great influ- 
ence — I can protect you against every one.” 


160 


FOR ms BROTHER! S SAKE. 


“ You are right — say no more. Have you any 
complaint to make of our agents ? ” 

“ Nothing of much importance. You can tell 
Candor that he must not begin before six o’clock, 
for I nearly missed him yesterday, and he needs 
close watching. Audacity took the bank twice 
yesterday, and that is not safe — he will rouse sus- 
picion. Greediness, I notice, has a nervous way 
of handling the cards; tell him to be more careful, 
he had better rest for a day or two and let his 
nerves grow steady. That is all, I think.” 

A long pause followed, the two men smoking in 
silence. At last Sivasti exclaimed, suddenly. 

‘T know of whom you are thinking.” 

‘‘ I am always thinking of her,” returned Mourad. 
“ I care for no one else. The other women I see 
become just as distasteful to me as were the lazy 
creatures of my harem in Tunis. I desire only 
Susanne, with her lovely blue eyes and sunny 
hair, and her sweet innocent face.” 

“You want her only because you cannot have 
her,” said Sivasti. 

“ That does not alter the fact of my being mis- 
erable without her.” 

“ Do you see her often ? ” 

“ No; only when I go to buy a picture.” 

“Have you not told me that your painter is 
infatuated with Fatmah ? ” 

“ Yes, and she is entirely unconscious of his feel- 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


161 


ings toward her. But what does it matter about 
that ? ” 

“I will explain later. But about George de 
Bussine; did you not tell me on board the steamer 
that his hatred of cards looked suspicious? Yery 
well, I have discovered that he was ruined by play, 
and fled the country Avith his daughter three years 
ago. Y ou know the proverb, ‘Who has once played, 
will play again.’ Do you not see that you have 
the means of getting him into your power? That 
done, you can, if I mistake not, easily Avin the 
daughter.” 


CHAPTEB II. 

For a long time Susanne had been filled with 
the gloomiest forebodings concerning her uncle. 
She could not account for his continued absence, 
and to her anxious inquiries, Mrs. Petit-homme 
returned only vague replies. 

“ He is still travelling, my dear,” said the little 
woman, “and his letters have probably mis- 
carried.” 

“Where did the last one come from? In his 
note to me he says that he incloses it in a letter 
to you — let me see the envelope.” 

“ I can not find it anyAvhere,” returned Csesa- 
rina, “my husband must have torn it up — he 
generally does the Avrong thing, poor Cornelius ! ” 


162 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


“ But did you not look at the post-mark ? ” 

‘‘Yes, it was an English town — Liverpool, I 
think.” 

“I know a gentleman who is in England!” 
cried the girl. “Mr. Murdon, whom we met 
in Algeria. I shall write to him at once and 
ask him to make inquiries. Yery likely uncle 
Lucian is lying ill at some hotel, with no one to 
take care of him. Oh, how glad I should be to 
go to him ! ” 

Caesarina approved of this plan, for it would 
keep Susanne’s thoughts occupied for a time. 

Lincoln Murdon was overjoyed at hearing from 
Susanne, and hastened to comply with her request; 
but after devoting some time to the search, was 
forced to inform her that he had met with no suc- 
cess. 

Then it occurred to the girl that her uncle’s for- 
mer employer would perhaps know something of 
his movements; but as Caesarina hastened to pre- 
pare Mr. Kobins for the young lady’s visit, the 
latter obtained no new information on the subject 
so near to her heart. The banker even suggested 
the possibility of Mr. Lecomte’s having gone to 
the United States of America, but Susanne re- 
jected the idea of his undertaking so long a 
voyage without informing her. 

“ The steamers may be delayed,” suggested Mr. 
Eobins, and so Susanne waited patiently until 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


163 


the American mails arrived; and wlien it became 
evident that no letter from her uncle had been 
brought, she began to think that she was being 
purposely deceived. She asked no more questions 
of her father or of Csesarina, and gradually ceased 
speaking of the missing man to any one. 

George de Bussine, who knew what fresh mis- 
fortune had befallen his brother, was tortured 
with sorrow and remorse; nevertheless, he tried to 
console himself with the assurance that he was not 
the direct cause of this new accusation, although 
his own judgment told him that the second dis- 
aster was but an outcome of the first. He had, 
moreover, a solace in his infatuation for Fatmah; 
the anticipation of seeing her absorbed him so 
completely that he gradually gave less and less 
thought to his brother. Two days after the con- 
versation between Mourad and Sivasti had taken 
place, Fatmah came as usual to the artist’s studio, 
arriving in a closed carriage and wearing her 
national costume under a large cloak. She replied 
only by an inclination of the head to his greeting, 
and walked slowly to her place on a long Turkish 
divan, where she assumed the prescribed attitude, 
half reclining among the pillows, and with one 
bare, sha])ely arm thrown gracefully over her head. 

De Bussine seated himself and took up his brush, 
while the face of the Circassian gradually acquired 
the desired expression; her full, red lips parted 


164 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


slightly, showing the small, white teeth and her 
splendid eyes, half -closed, fixed their languishing 
gaze upon the artist. The latter, instead of 
beginning to work, looked at his model with 
feverish admiration. The pose and the expres- 
sion were, he knew, assumed at his own request; 
but he now imagined that there was meaning in 
the seductive glance, that those soft, dark eyes 
were speaking to him as a man, that the mere 
artist was not considered. Certain it was that 
the lovely face was strangly agitated, and the 
bosom heaved tumultuously. De Bussine got up 
from his chair suddenly, and, going toward his 
model, took hold of her hand as if to alter its posi- 
tion, ^and bending over her, whispered hoarsely: 

I adore you ! ” 

She showed no displeasure nor astonishment at 
his words, but gazed at him in silence, until fall- 
ing on his knees beside her he exclaimed, wildly: 

“ I would give the whole world for your love ! ” 

Then, for the first time since she had entered 
the studio, Fatmah spoke: 

‘‘ The whole world f ” she repeated; ‘‘ that does 
not mean anything. French people, I know, do not 
use such figures of speech, though they are com- 
mon enough in my own country.” 

‘‘ I would give you anything you wished,” said 
the artist. Only tell me what would please you.” 

“ What I wish,” she said, slowly, “ is to leave 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


165 


Mourad. I wish to live as other women do, to 
dress as they do, to come and go as I please, 
instead of remaning his captive, his slave. Secure 
this new existence for me. Mourad looks upon 
me merely as a piece of property, for he has 
bought and paid for me. I belong to my pur- 
chaser, it seems, so you have but to purchase me.” 

Her gaze rested on his face once more, but it 
was no longer languid and beseeching — it seemed 
to pierce his soul, and draw him to her forcibly. 
He forgot his poverty,' his inability to do as she 
suggested, but carried away by his excitement 
and the delight which her words occasioned, he 
exclaimed in rapture. 

‘Ht shall be as you say. I will deliver you from 
captivity — ^you shall be free.” 

He would have approched her more closely, but 
she started up from the divan, and standing before 
him said in her full, rich voice: 

“I have been told not to trust the promise of 
a European. You must give me a proof of your 
sincerity. You know what my desires are — 
satisfy them, and I will gladly leave Mourad for 
ever.” 

She turned to the door, and when he would 
have followed her, looked at him with such cold 
imperiousness that he remained standing as if 
rooted to the spot. "When he was alone he threw 
himself down on the divan and gave himself up 


166 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


to thonghts of her, equally intoxicated by the 
memory of her beauty as he had been, by its 
reality. Up to that moment he had regarded his 
love as utterly hopeless — he had thought that 
he could never hope to rival the young, handsome, 
rich Mourad, but now, Fatmah had met him 
at least half-way. He had promised to provide 
the money necessary to free her from her master; 
but how was he to do this? How was he, a 
poor painter, to triumph in a contest with Mou- 
rad, the millionaire ? The little money he had 
made by the sale of his pictures, did it not belong 
to his daughter ? and at the thought of Susanne 
there rose in his mind a vision of his injured 
brother in the prison, and his conscience told him 
that every franc should go toward paying off 
that frightful debt. The next instant he seemed 
to see the form of Fatmah lying on the couch, 
and the room was filled with the fragrance of 
Eastern perfumes which recalled her presence. 

Ah, if he were but rich ! 

How could he find a way to make a fortune, he 
asked himself repeatedly, as he paced up and down 
the floor distractedly. If he could but try his 
luck at baccarat ! There was the only means he 
knew of, but he had sworn a solemn oath to play 
no more. At that thought he turned and left the 
studio and went in search of his daughter. 

He found Susanne with Caesarina, quietly sew- 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


167 


ing in the room which had been arranged to look 
like that in which his wife had died. 

It was at the side of that same bed that he had 
sworn his oath ! 

“ Susanne, my dearest,” he said, sitting down 
beside her, ‘4t is very sad for you to be here. 
Will you not come out and walk with me this 
evening ? You ought to have some little pleasure; 
let us go to a concert.” 

“ I can not,” she answered sadly; ‘‘ I can go no- 
where until we hear what has become of my dear 
uncle.” 

I was thinking of your health, Susanne,” he 
said ; “ of course we can enjoy nothing while we 
are in this terrible suspense. Poor dear brother ! ” 

Susanne fixed her eyes upon the carpet and 
made no reply, and in a few minutes the father 
and daughter went down to dinner together. It 
was a sad, silent meal, and afterwards Susanne 
and her father sat talking of their life in Algeria, 
the girl relating many little episodes of their 
travels, always dwelling longest on those in 
which Lionel Murdon had figured. At half past 
nine she bade her father good night, and both 
went to their rooms, and when Susanne was sleep- 
ing soundly and the house was quiet for the night, 
George de Bussine resolved to go for a walk, in 
the hope that the cool night air might calm 
his fevered fancies and enable him to sleep. 


168 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE, 


In a short time he had reached the city and was 
sauntering along the boulevard des Italiens. 
Suddenly he found himself in front of the very 
club-house where he had, three years before, lost 
his money and his honor. While he was gazing 
at it curiously, and wondering whether the club 
still owned the building, some carriages drove up 
to the door, and a servant in livery drew aside the 
portieres. If he were to go in, should he be 
recognized, George wondered, and he crept a lit- 
tle nearer, although he was fully resolved not to 
enter the house. 


CHAPTEE III. 

“ Good evening. Count,” said a voice near him, 
suddenly. George de Bussine turned in surprise 
and recognized one of the footmen of the club. 

“ I am surprised at your knowing me,” said the 
reformed gambler ; “ are you still employed here ? ” 

‘‘Yes sir,” replied the man; “the placets not 
changed much; are you not going in ? ” 

“ I have no longer the right, J am afraid, as I 
am not a member.” 

“ Oh ! that does not matter, sir. Y ou have only to 
speak to the secretary.” 

George de Bussine determined to do as the man 
suggested — merely as a matter of curiosity, to see 
how he would be received. Going up to the first 


FOR BIS BROTHER'S SAKE. 


169 


floor, he found himself in front of the desk, where 
he was recognized by the former secretary. 

I am no longer a member of this club, I sup- - 
pose,'’ said the artist. 

And why not. Count ? ” exclaimed the clerk. 

“For the simple reason that I have not paid my 
subscription for nearly four years.” 

“You have been temporarily absent from the 
city, and according to our rules you have only to 
pay the fee for the current year.” 

At that moment one of the members appeared 
and greeted De Bussine cordially. 

“ You are still one of us, my dear Count. Do 
come in and see your friends.” 

But I have given up play,” said George, hesi- 
tatingly. 

“Yery well,” replied the other; “you have 
then nothing to fear. Come in and prove to yourself 
the strength of your resolution.” 

They went into the reading-room together, and 
some of the members greeted their former ac- 
quaintance as naturally as if they had seen liim the 
day before. In the next room George recognized 
a number of players who were known as habitual 
losers. In one corner, sat the man who lost regu- 
larly and yet continued to play without com- 
plaint ; near him, was another man who bewailed 
his losses loudly, and vowed he would never set 
foot in the place again; but George had often 


170 


FOR ms BROTHER’S SAKE. 


heard him say the same thing before. Further 
on, was the man who had become desperate at 
losing his all. He was lying back in an armchair, 
his limbs limp and neri eless, his face pale, his 
eyes set, his white lips murmuring faintly that 
suicide was his doom ; but, as he had threatened 
this for the last thirty years, it was thought 
probable he would die of old age. 

The door of the baccarat room stood invitingly 
open, and after a moment’s hesitation George de 
Bussine entered. To his surprise he found that 
nothing there had changed ; on the walls were the 
paintings Avhich had looked down upon the same 
scene for so many years, the mirrors reflected the 
same faces, the thick window curtains were still 
discolored with tobacco smoke and impregnated 
with the odors of numberless cigars ; on the mantle- 
piece was the clock which no one ever dared to 
look at, lest it should remind him of a neglected 
duty. 

In the middle of the room stood the great 
baccarat table, but it had been lately re-covered, 
for the old green cloth had succumbed to the con- 
stant friction of coins and counters, to the scrap- 
ing of the croupier’s rake, and the repeated touch 
of nervous hands. George recognized nearly all 
his old friends, who, however, were too deeply 
engrossed to speak to him; but the manager 
hastened to welcome his former client, and the 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


171 


next minute reminded him that he had gone away 
owing eight thousand francs. 

I had quite forgotten it,” said de Bussine. 

I knew that,” replied the manager ; but I was 
not alarmed. I was quite content to await your 
return.” 

Thanks,” replied the Count ; I will bring you 
the money to-morrow.” It did not occur to him, 
that his debtor not having known his whereabouts 
had been obliged to trust him all this time. 

As he drew nearer the card table some one 
touched him on the shoulder, and the voice of 
Mourad-Bey said, gaily : 

A-ha ! so my painter is going to try his hand 
at baccarat ! ” 

No, indeed, your excellency; I cannot afford to.” 

I should be very happy to supply you with 
funds,” said Mourad. 

“ No, thank you — I never play.” 

You show your wisdom,” said the other ; and, 
pointing to the players, he added, they are all 
fools.” 

De Bussine agreed with him, and stood watch- 
ing the game wdth quite a superior air, and con- 
gratulated himself on feeling no inclination what- 
ever to join the gamblers. Two hours later he 
returned to his home wdth a light heart, saying 
to himself; 


172 


FOR HIS BROTHER’S SAKE. 


Ah, if my poor brother could but see me now, 
how he would rejoice! ’’ 

The next day he rose early and set to work in 
his studio, and at four o’clock in the afternoon, 
while he was still busy, he heard a light knock at 
the door. 

^^Comedn,” he said, without looking up, and 
Fatmah stood before him. 

She came toward him slowly, with her graceful, 
swinging movement, and as he gazed at her in 
silent admiration, she said, sadly : 

“ You did not expect to see me so soon, but I 
am obliged to leave France in a short time, and I 
thought you might be grieved if your painting 
were left unfinished.” 

“ You — leave France ! Why — how? ” cried the 
artist in an agitated voice. 

Yes,” she replied ; Mourad has grown tired of 
me, and as he finds I am not useful to him he has 
ordered me to return to Circassia.” 

And do you wish to go away ? ” asked George, 
struggling with his emotion. 

Alas! no,” she answered; “I have no friends 
there— my kindred are all dead, but it is Mourad’s 
will. 

“ He cannot exact obedience from you,” cried 
the artist; ‘‘while you are in France you are as 
free as he is; you can defy his tyranny.” 

“But what would become of me,” she said, 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


173 


how could I live, I, who have no friend, no pro- 
tector. You are the only being who has shown 
me any sympathy, and you are powerless to aid 
me.” 

She turned away from him and took her 
accustomed position on the divan, fixing her 
voluptuous gaze upon him as before. The artist 
with great effort controlled his agitation and 
resumed his work, and after a short time Fatmah 
proposed that he should finish a picture which he 
had already begun, in Avhich she represented one 
of the celebrated dancing-girls of Said. 

Going behind a screen, she hastened to change 
her costume and in a few minutes re-appeared 
A sunbeam, as if greeting the beautiful appari- 
tion, suddenly flitted across the studio and lighted 
up the floating, diaphanous drapery, wliich hardly 
concealed the perfect outline of her form. 

Kaising herself lightly on her toes she curved her 
arms over her head, which was thrown back grace- 
fully, the glorious Oriental eyes half closed, and 
then, keeping time with a slow, swaying motion 
of her body, as if about to dance, she sang in a 
low tone a rhythmical air, which recalled the 
grand dance of the East as she had often seen it 
in the harem. After a minute she stood motion- 
less and silent, with her gaze fixed languishingly 
upon the artist, who could hardly take his eyes 
off his beauteous model. 


174 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


At last she declared that she was tired, and 
left him suddenly, promising to come again the 
next day. This time George de Bussine found 
that he was powerless to conquer the emotions 
which the sight of Fatmah awakened in his heart. 
He felt that he would make any sacrifice to call 
her his, and at that moment the loud striking of 
the clock reminded him that there was but one 
way to succeed. One of the baccarat players had 
promised to keep “ open bank ” that afternoon, 
and, as he had been in unlucky vein for some 
time, all the others were anticipating a rich har- 
vest at his expense. George resolved to' go and 
watch the game, although, alas ! his oath would 
prevent his taking part in it. He had promised 
to pay his debt to the manager of the club, and 
was therefore bound to go. He took 10,000 
francs — just half his savings — and set out. 

On reaching the club-house he found that the 
game had begun, and that the banker, although 
losing heavily, continued to play. De Bussine 
stood watching the game, staking mentally, and 
saying to himself, have won — I have won 
again.” 

While he was enjoying this ingenuous pleasure, 
Mourad joined him, smiling as before, and begging 
him to come and talk 'with him in a quiet corner. 

The conversation turned entirely on the sub- 
ject of Fatmah, whom Mourad represented as the 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


175 


pearl of womankind, incomparably superior to 
all others, not in , beauty of face and form alone, 
but in qualities of mind and heart, and above all 
in tenderness, in depth of affection, and strength 
of devotion. He added that he was so afraid of 
losing her love, that he had resolved to send her 
away from Paris for a while, and therefore must 
request the artist to finish the pictures as quickly 
as possible. 

After some hesitation de Bussine ventured to 
suggest that he wondered at Mourad’s jealousy 
not being aroused by the precious Fatmah’s fre- 
quent tete-a-tetes with himself, and at these words 
the Tunisian looked at the speaker in undisguised 
amazement. Then, after a long pause, he said ' 
slowly, and with profuse apologies, that he had 
always pictured a possible rival as a younger and 
handsomer man, in short, a very different sort of 
person to the one before him. He seemed unable 
to repress a sneer of contempt and defiance as he 
spoke, although his meaning was expressed good- 
naturedly, and the artist, remembering Fatmah’s 
soft glances and appealing smiles, felt his blood 
boil with indignation and wounded vanity. 

What a delight it w^ould be to triumph over this 
conceited, insolent young fellow ! To show him 
that Fatmah appreciated the superior worth of 
the poor and humble artist ! 

All he needed was money, and the ten thousand 


176 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


francs in crisp banknotes seemed to burn the 
fingers that were grasping them. If he could 
but throw them down on the table, and win a 
fortune ! Mourad, who had left him for a minute 
to speak to another acquaintance, now rejoined 
him, and continued to talk to him of Fatmah : 

“ She has always brought me good luck,” he said; 
‘‘and in her absence I shall have the pictures, 
which you will kindly finish for me. They will 
serve as talismans, just as this ring does,” and he 
showed the artist a curiously engraved ring. 
“Those characters are Arabic,” he continued, 
“ and signify, ‘ 1 bring luck to those who believe in 
mei^ ” 

“ Oh, give it to me !” cried George, but the other 
answered : 

“ I cannot give away Fatmah’ s ring ; but I will 
lend it to you, if you would like to use it to stake 
with.” 

At that moment two players left the table, 
their hands full of banknotes, and one of them, 
seeing George, exclaimed : 

“Just look here! You are mad to lose such a 
chance. The banker persists in playing, though 
he loses every time 1” 

Mourad thrust the magic ring into the artist’s 
trembling hand as the banker cried, “Stakes, 
gentlemen 1” and George deBussine, rushing to the 
table, laid down the ring, exclaiming : 


FOR ms BROTHER’S SAKE, 


177 


“ Two hundred louis on this !” 

He was successful three times in succession, 
realizing in all the sum of twenty-eight thousand 
francs. 

‘‘Fatmah brings you luck!” said Mourad’s 
voice in his ear ; “ keep the ring for a week, if you 
like.” 

It was nearly eleven o’clock before the banker 
showed any sign of recovering his losses, and 
then only did de Bussine leave the table. He had 
now more than eighty thousand francs, and said 
to himself that if this good fortune lasted long, he 
would soon be able to teach the self-complacent 
Oriental a lesson. He told himself, also, that it 
was not the ring that made him win, but his own 
prudence in staking, his increased experience, and 
unwonted calmness and reflection. The mania for 
play took complete possession of him, and if the 
recollection of his oath arose in his mind, the 
thought of Fatmah drove it out before he had 
time to dwell upon it. 

Day after day he appeared at the card-table 
and, continuing to win, was complimented on his 
skill by Mourad, the tempter, who was ever at his 
elbow. On the other hand, Fatmah came to 'the 
studio each morning, posing in the same ravish- 
ing costume, and maddening him with her melting 
eyes. 

When he told her of his brilliant prospects, she 


178 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


only sighed and said that the time of her depart- 
ure was fast drawing near, and to his entreaties 
that she leave Mourad at once, she answered 
firmly that in her country, although a man was 
expected to have many wives, no woman could 
have more than one master. 


CHAPTEE lY. 

One afternoon, soon after Mr. de Bussine had 
gone to the club, Mrs. Petit-homme rose from her 
work at Susanne’s side, and said : 

I must go, my dear ; Mr. Petit-homme made 
me promise to be in time for dinner.” 

<< Very well,” said the girl, quietly. 

“ And I am afraid that I shall not be able to 
come to you to-morrow. I have to go to several 
places, to. consult my agent about investments — 
you understand ” 

‘‘I understand perfectly,”’ answered Susanne, 
without looking up, “ that you cannot be here and 
at Melun at the same time.” 

‘‘What do yon mean?” asked the other. 

“ I mean that there is to be a very interesting 
case tried at eleven o’clock to-morrow morning, 
and that you wish to be present as you are a 
devoted friend of the accused.” 

“ What — who are you speaking of ?” 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 179 

“ Of one Lucian Lecomte, a prisoner at Melun, 
who is to be tried for stealing ten thousand francs/’ 
replied Susanne with great calmness; and she drew 
from under the materials in her work-basket a 
newspaper paragraph, which proved to be a notice 
of the approaching trial. 

Mrs. Petit-homme read it in dismay. It closed 
with these words : 

“ This Lucian Lecomte is the same person who 
was convicted three and a half years ago of 
embezzlement and breach of trust, while in the 
employ of Messrs. Eobins & Co., the well-known 
bankers of the boulevard Haussmann.” 

When Mrs. Petit-homme had read the para- 
graph, Susanne said : 

You see, I know all. Do not try to deceive me 
any longer. Did you think that I had forgotten 
my dear uncle ? Did you think that I could be 
content when you kept on saying, ‘ he will come — 
wait a little longer.’? Ah, I never once ceased to 
think of him, to long for him, and at last I was 
sure that there was something kept from me. I 
did not know where to turn for help, until at last 
it occurred to me that newspapers contained every- 
thing ; and then, although you had already refused 
to bring me any, saying that newspapers were not 
proper reading for a young girl, I determined to 
have them, and I bribed the servant to buy 
some every day. For a long time I found no men- 


180 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


tioii of my lost uncle ; but at last, when I was 
almost in despair, I saw this paragraph. 

I knew there could be no mistake! It is my 
uncle, my darling father Lucian, whom they have 
put in prison — my dear uncle — a thief !” 

“He is not guilty!” cried Csesarina. 

“ Oh you need not tell me that! I knew at once 
there was some mistake, some horrible mystery. 
I went down to the newspaper office in a cab, 
with the servant, and saw a full account of my 
uncle’s trial nearly four years ago. Then I under- 
stood the meaning of your strange looks — I knew 
it all — all — I remembered my mother’s death — I 
I saw how my uncle had sacrificed himself for us.” 

Caesarina clasped the weeping girl in her arms. 
When she had again grown calm Susanne 
said, “ I will go with you to the trial. It will 
give him courage to know that Lam there.” 

“ It will distress him to know that all his efforts 
to keep the matter a secret from you have been 
useless.” 

“ But I shall go to see him in his prison. I 
shall console him and thank him for all his devo- 
tion. He will see that I do not doubt him, that I 
have not ceased to love him. I am determined, 
Caesarina, to go with you.” 

“ Well, my dear, it shall be as you say; but I 
must prepare him for your visit, and you must 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


181 


tell your father that you will be away from home 
all day. ” 

Do not leave me tomight, ” said Susanne, en- 
treatingly. “My father will not come home, and I 
have no friend but you. Let us talk of uncle 
Lucian; tell me everything you know about this 
terrible affair.’’ So Mrs. Petit-homme stayed with 
the young girl, and the next morning at eight 
o’clock they set out together for Melun. 

“ Does your father know that this is the day 
of the trial ?” asked Caesarina. 

“ I cannot say,” replied Susanne; “ I lay 
awake last night waiting to tell him, but he did 
not come home at all.” 

“Has he begun to play again ?” asked Mrs. 
Petit-homme. 

“ I do not know, but I still hope that he has not 
broken his vow.” 

All the way to Melun, Susanne tallved of no- 
thing but her uncle’s case, and his chances of 
acquittal. She had learned every detail from 
Mrs. Petit-homme and reflected calmly on the prob- 
able results. She did not weep nor tremble, but 
was so alert and resolute that her friend won- 
dered at her presence of mind and fortitude. 

“ My uncle is not trembling,” said thb girl, “ he 
is thinking of his defense, and of how he will 
silence his calumniators. Ah, I wish I had known 
in time, I would have engaged a great, clever law- 


182 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE, 


yer who would have proved my uncle’s innocence 
to the world, not only of this crime, but of the 
other also !” 

When they reached Melun they drove straight 
to the court-house, where Cornelius was waiting 
them. 

He told them that Mr. Lecomte’s case was not 
to be opened until the afternoon. 

“ Where is he now f ’ asked Susanne. 

He is in the city jail, Miss. ” 

And where is that 

“ Close by,” replied Cornelius, pointing to the * 
building. 

Susanne told the coachman to drive on a little, 
and then, when they were directly opposite the 
prison, she put her face close to the carriage 
window and looked up at the dark, cold walls and 
iron gratings which alone separated her from her 
beloved uncle — her more than father. He was 
there, only a few steps from her, and yet she 
could not speak to him, she could not tell him 
how she was suffering with him, and how much 
she loved him 1 She looked at the prison wist- 
fully with dry, tearless eyes, but with bitter tears 
in her heart. Then, suddenly, she turned around, 
exclaiming, ‘‘Why shoiild I not see him now?” 

“ Why ? Oh, because, my dear ” 

“ I knoAV what you mean; I know you think 
that the sight of me would disturb and excite him 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


183 


too much, and unfit him for the strain of his trial. 
I think just the contrary, however; I know that 
when the first shock is over he will be more 
calm and more firm than before. In the first 
trial he did not try to assert his innocence, but 
when he knows that I am there, looking at and 
listening to him, he will rouse himself and prove 
to me, at least, that he is innocent. And then, 
suppose that he is convicted ! Imagine him going 
back to his living tomb, thinking that it will bo 
five years more, perhaps ten, before he shall see his 
darling niece — for he is thinking of me, always of 
me, as I think of none but him. I will not have 
it so — he shall see me first ; he shall know that I 
believe in him, that I love him, as he loves me ! 
I am determined to go into the prison.” 

You will have to get permission first.” 

From whom ? ” 

From the Prefect, I suppose; or stay, I have 
an idea !” cried Cornelius. 

Another idea ?” exclaimed his wife, in aston- 
ishment. 

The superintendent of the prison at Melun 
has the necessary authority, and there he stands at 
the gate. He has evidently come to attend the 
trial.” 

will go and speak to him,” said Susanne, 
getting out of the carriage, followed by CEesarina. 

In a few minutes Mr. Poulard had shown them 


184 


FOR HIS BROTHERS-SAKE. 


into the little room which served as the parlor of 
the building, and Susanne de Bussine had tendered 
her request. 

Her hearer looked at her with the greatest • 
interest, which was increased when he heard that 
the person she wished to see was no other than 
his protege, Lucian Lecomte. 

‘‘You ought to have a permit, signed by the 
Prefect,” he said, doubtfully. 

But Susanne replied : 

“There is not time to get it now — you will 
grant me permission, I am sure,” and, after a little 
soft persuasion from her, the superintendent 
began to show signs of giving in. 

“ It is such a simple matter,” she said ; “ and 
you are surely not afraid to let me see him. What 
harm do you suppose I could do — -even if I wished 
to do any? Let me speak with him for a few 
minutes, that is all I ask — pray, pray, do not 
refuse me. You can be present all the time if you 
wish — only let me see him.” 

Mr. Boulard could resist no longer, but went at 
once and gave the necessary orders. 


CHAPTEE Y. 

Lucian Lecomte w'as surprised at hearing his 
name called, and as he silently followed the guard 


FOB ms BBOTHEBS SAKE. 


185 


to the lobby he wondered who could be waiting 
to see him. 

“ Probably my lawyer,” he thought; but at that 
moment he caught sight of Caesarina, who was 
looking through a grating into the corridor. 

‘‘ Ah, the good woman has secured a permit, 
and come to talk to me of Susanne,” he tliought, 
with a sigh. 

As soon as he reached her, Mrs. Petit-homme 
took both his hands, saying : 

I have come to prepare you for something — 
be strong.” 

“ I can bear anything,” he answered. Tell 
me the worst at once.” 

You can bear sorrow, I knoAV, but this is a 
oy ” 

j Joy!” he echoed, then suddenly turned pale, 
and looked at her fixedly. 

‘‘ Some one has come to see 3^ou,” said Caesarina. 

^aook!” 

Lucian turned toward the iron gate which was 
being slowly opened, and the next minute Susanne 
appeared. He glanced at her, then lowered his 
eyes as if disbelieving them, and as she came 
swiftly toward him, he uttered a low cry, and 
tottered as if about to fall. But Susanne sprang 
forward, and after throwing her arms around his 
neck, as she had thrown them in her childhood, 


186 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


took his face between her hands and covered it 
with kisses. 

JSTeither spoke, and the man closed his eyes and 
gave himself up to an ecstasy of joy. Suddenly, 
however, he raised his head, clasi3ed his hands 
over hers, and looked long and lovingly into her 
fair young face. Then he pressed a kiss upon her 
forhead, and his eyes filled with happy tears. 

Mr. Boulard and Csesarina stood watching the 
two from a short distance, and the superintendent, 
as much moved as his companion, said to her in a 
low voice: 

I know I can trust your word that it is per- 
fectly safe for me to leave those two alone for a 
few minutes.” 

‘‘ Perfectly,” she answered ; and after saying a 
few words to the guards, he invited Susanne and 
Lecomte into a small room off the corridor, where 
they could be quite alone. 

Thank you, sir,” said Susanne, quietly ; and, 
taking her uncle’s arm, she walked with him into 
the room indicated. Lucian took his niece to the 
window, and looked at her eagerly. 

‘‘ Yes, it is indeed you, my little Susanne,” he 
said at last. “ Your features have not changed 
much, but how tall and willowy you have grown ! 
Your eyes are just as soft and blue as your dear 
mother’s were, but there is more determination 
in your face. Your smile is exactly like hers, and 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAGE. 


187 


your hair is still blonde, as I had hoped it would 
be. It has grown a trifle more golden, however. 
And why do you not brush it back a little ? Your 
forehead can hardly be seen !” 

“ That is the fashion,” she said, smiling ; and at 
that word, which he had not heard for years, he 
recollected his position, and the thought of his 
prison costume flashed through his mind. He 
stepped back hastily and covered his face with his 
hands ; but Susanne took hold of them gently, and 
saidy in a full, clear voice, as if she wanted every 
one to hear her : 

I do not care for your clothes! I do imt see 
thejn! You have no reason to be ashamed of 
them, since you wear them undeservedly! Do 
you think I do not know !” 

What do you know ? ” he asked, anxiously. 

“ I know that you do not deserve to be here. 
I know that you are innocent. Some one robbed 
your safe, and you are being punished for his 
crime !” 

‘‘Whose crime?” he asked, looking at her 
sear chin gly. 

“ I do not know that,” she answered; “ but you 
do. You did not try to defend yourself, but sub- 
mitted to the punishment to shield another. I 
have read every word of the reports of your 
trial.” 


1S8 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


“ Who gave them you — who told you ? Was it 
Mrs. Petit-homme 

‘‘ No, she would tell me nothing, and I thought 
you must be dead. I was never so unhappy in my 
life. But at last I got some newspapers, and found 
out everything.” 

Lucian looked into her eyes and, after a pause, 
asked : 

How is your father? You have not spoken of 
him.” 

“ He is well, but miserable about you. I knew 
it would not do for him to come here with me; 
he would have unnerved you.” 

“ Does he work ?” 

‘‘ Yes, all day long, and he has sold nearly all 
his pictures. We are growing quite rich. In the 
evening we sit together and talk.” 

Lucian’s face beamed as she spoke, and he said 
to himself that his self-sacrifice had produced good 
fruit. 

The girl, fearful of being questioned further 
about her father, went on talking : 

About your trial, uncle. You will defend 
yourself vigorously, will you not ? Bemember, L 
shall be there!” 

“ You ?” he cried, 

“ Certainly, that is what I came to Melun for. 
I did not know that I should be permitted to see 
you, but I am so glad they let me in. Are not 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 18^ 

you glad, uncle Lucian — do you not want to kiss 
your little girl again 

lie caught her in his arms, pressed her closely 
to his heart, and kissed her fresh, fair face repeat* 
edly ; and then Susanne grew serious again and 
talked about the approaching trial, until Mrs. 
Petit-homme appeared and announced that the 
time had come for them to part. 


CHAPTER YI. 

The act of accusation being read, the prisoner 
stood up to answer the questions of the president 
of the court. The sight of Lucian Lecomte in the 
prison grab and surrounded by guards produced a 
great sensation among the audience, though of 
course none were so painfully affected as Susanne 
and Caesarina. They hstened breathlessly when 
he loudly asserted his innocence, and expressed 
his conviction that his two enemies. Brazier and 
Sagot, had conspired to injure him by putting the 
note-book into his office-table. Unfortunatly, the 
former notary was an adept in the art of deceiv- 
ing, and assuming an air of greatest simplicity 
and moderation, he denied everything the accused 
had said, and declared him to be a thorough 
hypocrite. The other convicts on being sum- 
moned to testify, endorsed what their leader said 


190 


FOR ms BROTHERS 8 SAKE. 


having been well drilled by him for that purpose. 
Sagot, in reply to Lecomte’s accusation, replied 
that he would not have been so foolish as to put 
the money into the accountant’s table, but would 
have kept it in some safer place where no one 
could have found it. 

Cornelius Petit-homme did his best to save the 
accused, but the unexpected sound of a little 
squeaking voice issuing from such an enormous 
frame, aroused the risibilities of every one pre- 
sent, and went far towards nullifying the effect of 
his words. Moreover, it was perfectly apparent 
that the man was repeating what some other per- 
son had told him, and indeed Caesarina had 
thought it necessary to make him learn his deposi- 
tion by heart. Altogether, appearances were so 
much against Lecomte that even the favorable 
testimony of Mr. Poulard, the superintendent of 
the prison, did not make much impression upon 
his hearers. Susanne listened to the depositions 
and other speeches with a wildly beating heart, 
and when at last the jury went out to deliberate, 
she could hardly control her agitation, until Mrs. 
Petit-homme clasped her arms soothingly around 
the trembling girl. Suddenly a bell rang and the 
jury returned. In the midst of a death-like silence 
the chief, putting his hand upon his heart declared, 
upon his honor and his conscience, that it was the 


FOR ms BROTHER’S SAKE. 


191 


opinion of the majority of the jurors that the 
accused was Guilty. 

Lecointe was then brought in to hear his 
sentence, and when asked if he had anything to 
say, answered that he had not, then looking up, 
fixed his eyes upon Susanne. 

The president now rose and declared him 
sentenced to five year’s imprisonment, and five 
years more of strict surveillance. The guards 
approached to lead the condemned man away, but 
before he left the court-room, Lecointe bowed his 
head and smiled farewell to his niece. 

A few minutes later, Susanne with Csesarina 
and Cornelius were on the way back to Paris. The 
girl sat at the open window of the railway-car- 
riage in perfect silence, and with a thousand 
thoughts running riot through her brain, she 
made so many different plans that she could de- 
cide on none, and her two friends looked at her in 
alarm, fearing that the great strain and excite- 
ment of the day would be too much for her. She 
allowed herself to be put to bed, however, with- 
out a word, Csesarina lay down on a sofa near her, 
and the next morning the girl awoke at nine 
o’clock, and lay thinking for some time in silence. 
Then, having come at last to a decision, she rose and 
dressed hastily, and sitting down at a table, wrote 
a telegraphic message. I rely on your friend- 


192 for his brothers SAKE. 

ship for a very great service. Come. Susanne de 
Bussine.” 

Mrs. Petit-homme came into the room just as 
the message was written. 

“ Will you take this to the telegraph-office at 
once ? ” said Susanne, and then come back to 
me ? ’’ 

Caesarina gladly assented, and went out imme- 
diately with the despatch. It was addressed to 
Mr. Lionel Murdon., care Lord Murdon, Picca- 
dilly^ London. 

When Mrs. Petit-homme returned, she was 
astonished to find Susanne calm and composed. 

Tell me,” said the girl, where will they send 
my uncle now ? ” 

‘‘ To Poissy, I suppose, but he will first have 
to complete the term of his original sentence 
at Melun.” 

“That would make seven-years and a half 
altogether,” said Susanne, musingly, and then 
added, “ I must go and speak to my father.” 

She went down to his studio, and receiving no 
reply to her kuock, entered the room. The artist 
Avas asleep on a sofa, but he started up with a 
guilty air as slie approched him and exclaimed: 

“ M}^ dear child, Avhere did you go yesterday ? 
The serA^ant told me that Mrs. Petit-homme took 
you aAvay Avith her.” 

“ Yes, AA^eAA^ent to Melun,” said Susanne, quietly, 


POR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


193 


and in reply to his look of alarmed enquiry she 
continued, “we went to attend the trial of a 
prisoner — my uncle Lucian Lecomte.” 

“Oh, Susanne,’’ he cried, trembling visibly, 
“ you know then ? ” 

“Yes,” she said firmly; “I know all. I was 
present at the trial, and was allowed to visit him 
in the jail.” 

“ But he is not convicted again ? ” cried George 
de Bussine. 

His daughter looked at him in silence for a 
moment, and then answered slowly: 

“ He is condemned to five years more of im- 
prisonment, and these will make nearly eight 
years altogether,” and after a slight pause she ad- 
ded: “ Ho you intend to allow this, papa?” 

“Ho,” he cried, “I will prevent it, I will go at 
once.” 

“You cannot do that now,” she interrupted, “it 
is too late; we must help him in another way. I 
am going to try every means to obtain his pardon. 
Could you not get some assistance from that Mou- 
rad-Bey whom we met on the steamer on our way 
from Algeria ? ” 

“ Yes, he often comes here to buy my pictures,” 
said de Bussine. 

“I am sure he could do something, for he 
knows all the ministers and influential yersons. 
Ask him to come and see me.” 


194 


ms BROTBEBS SAKE. 


“You are going to tell him?” began her father 
in an anxious voice — but she reassured him, say- 
ing: 

“ Do not fear. I shall not tell him that the pris- 
oner is your brother. Uncle Lucian has persisted 
in concealing your relationship, and I am bound to 
respect his wishes. I am sorry to have inter- 
rupted your nUp, papa, and all I ask you to do is 
to bring your influential friend to see me.” 

She turned away from him without another 
word, and he stood as if transfixed by her cold 
- commanding manner. As soon as she had left the 
room, he dropped into an arm chair, looking about 
him with a half dazed air, and said feebly: 

“My poor brother — condemned again — ^three 
hundred thousand francs lost in two nights. I 
have lost Fatmah — everything is gone ! ” 

Meanwhile Susanne had returned to Mrs. Petit- 
homme. 

. “ I may rely on you and on your good husband ? 
'Will he have the courage to return to Melun for 
a little while ? ” 

“ Yes indeed,” replied the woman. “He has al- 
ready learned that the person who succeeded him 
does not like the place and has decided to give it 
up.” 

“ That is settled, then,” said the girl, throwing 
her arms round Caesarina’s neck. 


HIS BBomms sake. 


195 


CHAPTEE YU. 

Motjead was astonished but delighted to hear 
that Miss de Bussine wished to see him. He had 
not met her for nearly six months, in spite of the 
frequent visits he made to her father’s studio, in 
the hope of seeing her. It was agreed that he 
should call at three o’clock in the afternoon, but 
he did not appear until six. He had hoped that 
her father would then be away from home, and 
was much disappointed to find Mrs. Petit-homme 
sitting with the young lady. After the usual 
greetings, Susanne explained that she had sent for 
him for the purpose of asking him to do her a 
great service. 

“ I am entirely at your disposal,” he said, bow- 
ing low ; and when he heard that she wished him 
to use his influence to obtain the release from 
prison of a person who had been for years a 
devoted friend of her family, he assured her that 
he would use his utmost efforts to serve her. 

“ You will find it a difficult task, I fear,” she 
said, sadly. “ The laws and customs of this coun- 
try are so different from those of Tunis.” 

“Ah ! Miss de Bussine,” he replied, “ if I were 
Prime minister here, I would willingly open every 
prison to win one smile from you !” 

Her long sojourn in Algeria had accustomed 


190 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


Susanne to the exaggerated compliments of the 
Orientals, and without noticing his last words, she 
proceeded to give him a detailed account of the 
matter in question. He then took his leave, prom- 
ising her that he would report at the earliest 
possible moment, and pressing to his lips the hand 
which she extended. Just as he was going out of 
the front door, a cab drove up and a young man 
stepped out, and rang the bell. It was Lionel 
Murdon. When Caesarina led him into the draw- 
ing room he hesitated a moment on seeing Susanne, 
who at once came toward him and held out her 
hand saying, “ Thank you for coming so soon.” 

I was just starting for Ireland with my father 
and brother when your despatch arrived, but I 
took the first train to Dover, and here I am.” 

“Was not your father displeased at your leav- 
ing him ?” asked the girl in a troubled voice. 

“ Why no, he was the first one to say, set off at 
once.” 

“ Have you told them about me ?” 

“ I have talked of no one but you since I reached 
home, and my father takes the greatest interest 
in you. If you will but say the word, he will come 
here to tell you so. He will tell you that he has 
always longed for a French daughter-in-law.” 
Susanne saw that Lionel Murdon had not changed. 
He spoke his mind just as frankly, and as decidedly 
as he has always done. She looked at him for a 


FOR HI8 BROTHER'S SAKE. 


197 


few moments in silence, and then -with a great 
, effort she said slowly : 

When I sent for you I half feared that it 
would be thus — that you would return with 
the same hopes and sentiments as you have so 
often expressed. I am afraid it is ungenerous in 
me to recall those hopes, for they can never be 
realized. New obstacles have arisen since we 
parted.” 

‘‘ What do you mean he said; and she 
answered : “ You will understand that when I 
have exj)lained the nature of the service that I 
ask ef your brotherly devotion.” 

‘- Your brother is awaiting your orders,” he said 
gloomingly. 


CHAPTEK YIII. 

Sidi-Bou-Said, who was no other than Sivasti, 
minister-in-chief to the king of the card sharpers’ 
was giving audience to his agents in his apartment 
in the Avenue de Yilliers. They came one by one 
according to appointment, and paid in half their 
Avinnings of the previous night, after which Sivasti 
took occasion to rebuke such as had disobeyed his 
orders by winning too often or otherwise inviting 
suspicion. The last person to appear on the scene 
was a tall, thin, middle-aged man of a gentleman- 


198 


JWR Ills BROTHERS SAKE. 


like appearance, but with a rather nervous manner. 
When their accounts had been settled, Sivasti 
said to his visitor ; 

Well, Meserean, are you still of the same mind 
as you were yesterday 

‘W^es,” said the other, ‘^and if you will permit, 
I will explain the matter to you.” 

His listener motioned him to a chair, and when 
they were both seated, Mesereau went on: 
believe I was born with the passion for play, for 
at twenty-five years of age I had wasted my dead 
father’s fortune and reduced my widowed mother 
to utter poverty ; however, I was soon married to 
the best and gentlest woman in the world, and my 
lucky vein returning to me suddenly, I was able 
to provide for her and my children. It was only 
when Fortune turned away from me again, and I 
saw them threatened with starvation, that I began 
to cheat at the card table. Repeated practice soon 
made me an expert, and I made enough 
money to give my wife a comfortable home and 
my daughter a dowry. My whole ambition 
then was to renounce play entirely .and live at 
peace in the bosom of my family. Unfortunately 
for me you crossed my path ; you accused me of 
trickery and threatened to expose me unless I 
agreed to share my gains with you. I consented 
because I knew that it would kill my wife to dis- 
cover that I had been such a knave, for she has 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


199 


never doubted my honesty. My exposure would 
bring disgrace on my whole family and I should 
lose their affection forever.” 

He paused and his listener observed calmly: 

“I have no intention of ruining you all the 
while you keep to your contract.” 

That is just what I do not wish to do,” re- 
turned the other; ‘‘ I have conceived a horror and 
detestation of my profession. I wish to give it up 
now and forever and devote my time to some 
honest occupation.” 

‘‘I will not prevent your doing that,” said 
Sivasti, drily,” but I have a condition to make.” 

^‘What is it?” said Mesereau in an anxious 
tone. 

Simply this, you must find a substitute, and 
instruct him thoroughly in your art, before you 
sever your connection with me.” 

I cannot do it,” said the other hastily. 

“Then I cannot release you from your con- 
tract.” 

The two men argued the matter hotly for 
several minutes, Mesereau declaring that he did 
not know any eligible man, and Sivasti maintan- 
ing that the nameless person who was their 
master, had positively refused to accept his re- 
signation on any other terms. Then Mersereau 
in despair recollected that one of tho greatest 
losers in his club was the ifount de Bussine. 


200 


FOR ms BROTHER'S SAKE. 


‘‘De Bussine?” repeated Sivasti, tliouglitfully; 

I have never heard the name, is he a likely per- 
son ? ” 

lie is a bold player and has lost large sums 
lately.” 

“ Yery well, set about it at once. Do your best 
to secure him, but proceed very coutiously.” 

His listener looked up quicldy, saying: 

“ Why are you so anxious to ruin this man ? ” 

And Sivasti, surprised at the suddenness of the 
question, hesitated a moment and then said: 

‘‘ What do you mean, sir ? ” 

I mean,” said Mesereau, firmly, “ that you are 
not as frank as 1 am — ^why did you not tell me at 
first that our employer has some object for mak- 
ing a philosopher of the Count de Bussine ? Sup- 
pose I r(5fuse your proposal ? ” 

“ Then you will have to continue in 3 ^our pre- 
sent situation; if, on the contrary, you accept it, 
you will soon be free to live as you please and my 
authority will be at an end. I give you my word 
of honor.” 

Is that the only guaranty ? ” asked Mesereau. 

‘T can ofier you no better,” said Sivasti. 
And the other man exclaimed, it is not enough ! ” 
Sir, do you mean to insult me ? be careful ! ” 
Is that a threat ? I am accustcmied to both 
sword and pistol.” 

Sivasti laughed and said carelessly: 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


201 


understand each other, that is evident, 
think the matter over and let me know your deci- 
sion.” 

And so saying, he rose from his chair and 
bowed his visitor out of the room. 

Mesereau lost no time in calling at the 
studio of George de Bussine. The unfortunate 
artist had lost not only all His savings at baccarat 
but also the money borrowed from Mourad-Bey 
and other persons. He was on the very brink of 
despair, and was pacing the floor distractedly 
when a visitor was announced. The latter did 
not have much difficulty in leading the convers- 
ation to the subject of baccarat and confided to 
de Bussine that the latter had in all probability 
been swindled by the sharpers. 

‘‘You cannot imagine,” he said “how clever 
those fellows are; one of them once taught me 
several of his tricks, and by practice I became 
quite an expert.” 

“You,” cried George, looking at him suspici- 
ously. 

“And why not?” returned .the other, “should 
I not have the right to take my own? Bor ten 
years they had been robbing me, and at last I had 
the means of revenging myself. Give me a pack 
of cards, and I will show you some of their de- 
vices.” 


202 


FOB ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


But how could any one have cheated me when 
I was the banker?” asked de Bussine. 

By merely slipping some false cards into your 
pack before you began to deal ! Sit down by me, 
and I will give you some lessons.” 


CHAPTER IX. 

Motjead was too anxious to please Miss de Bus- 
sine to neglect any means of obtaining the release 
of her friend the prisoner. The day after his in- 
terview with her he called upon several influential 
men. They all received him with the greatest 
cordiality and declared themselves willing and 
anxious to serve him, but at the same time they 
could not conceal from him that there was not the 
slightest possibility of his request being granted. 
If it had been merely a question of remitting a 
part of the penalty of a common criminal, a peti- 
tion might be signed by the minister, but the man 
Lecomte had committed a second offence before 
the term of imprisonment for the first had expir- 
ed. Mourad was so little impressed by the justice 
of the answers he received, and so little con- 
versant with the usages of his adopted country, that 
he tried to have recourse to bribery to gain his 
point, and was simply astonished to find that the 


FOR HIS BROTHER'S SAKE. 


203 


French officials were incorruptible. The Tunisian 
was therefore obliged to resign himself to failure, 
and hastened to report it to Susanne. It happened 
that George de Bussine and Caesarina were both 
absent when he called, but the young girl being 
all impatience to learn what he had done, received 
him alone in her drawing-room. When he had 
acquainted her with the fruitlessness of his earnest 
endeavors, she did not seem to be much surprised 
or disappointed, but smiling sadly said: 

I had not very much hope of success, but I felt 
bound to leave no stone unturned. Believe me, 
sir, I am sincerely grateful for the trouble you 
have taken, and I thank you with all my heart.” 

As she spoke she artlessly held out both her 
hands to him, the more warmly to express her 
gratitude. He took her hands in his, and to her 
amazement held them firmly, saying: 

“You do not know how happy it makes me to 
hold your hands in mine — ^you are so beautiful 
and I love you so tenderly.” 

“ Oh, sir,” she cried in dismay, “ you must not 
address me in such terms; remember that I hardly 
know you.” 

“ You must learn to know me,” he said in a low 
voice; “ for I have never ceased to think of you 
and to long for you since the day we first met. 
My heart is yours entirely.” 

“ I beg you to be silent,” she interrupted, look- 


204 : 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


ing into his face, “ I insist on your releasing my 
hands. I held them out to you in all sincerity and 
confidence, believing you to be an honorable 
gentleman.” 

1^0,” he cried, will not obey you, for you 
look lovelier than ever in your anger — I adore 
you.” 

I will not listen — let me go — I insist — I en- 
treat — I will call for help ! ” 

“ It is of no use,” he answered, trying to draw 
her towards him. 

She struggled to free herself and called loudly 
for assistance. Suddenly a slow heavy step was 
heard on the stairs and Mourad hastely drew 
back; the next minute Cornelius Petit-homme en- 
tered the room. Susanne pointed to Mourad, say- 
ing: 

“ Turn this person out of the house — he has in- 
sulted me.” 

The giant made no reply, but seizing the visitor 
by the collar with one hand put him forcibly out 
of the room and down the stairs, in spite of his 
resistance. A few minutes after Caesarina made 
her appearance, and Susanne, still trembling, relat- 
ed all that had occurred. Caesarina was loudly 
expressing her indignation at the conduct of Mou- 
rad, when Lionel Murdon was announced. 

‘^Hot a word of this to him,” said Susanne, 
we have more important matters to talk about.” 


FOR ms BROTHER'S SAKE. 


205 


And as he entered the room she exclaimed: 

“ Have you any news ? ” 

‘‘ Ho,” he replied, the secretary of the English 
legation has been interesting himself in the mat- 
ter, but has been unsuccessful.” 

“ Then,” said the girl, “ my last hope disap- 
pears; we must arrange our great plan. Have you 
decided to join us, Mr. Lionel ? ” 

“ Certainly,” he replied, I am entirely at your 
service.” 

‘‘ And you, my good friend,” she said turning 
to Csesarina, ‘‘have you reflected on the grave 
risks you take in helping us ? ” 

“ I have thought of everything,” said the 
woman, “and fear nothing.” 

Susanne then looked enquiringly towards Cor- 
nelius, and he said slowly: 

“ I will do whatever my wife tells me.” 

“Thanks,” said Susanne, “and now for our 
plan.” 

Meanwhile Mourad had hastened to his con- 
fidant Sivasti. 

“ I have done as you desired,” said the latter; 
“Mesereau and de Bussine are becoming great 
friends. If Fatmah playes her part properly all 
will be well.” 

He sent a cloud of cigar-smoke into air, and 
after^a pause, remarked slowly: 

“ The Circassians are known to be revengeful. 


206 


FOB HIS BliOTHEHS SAKE. 


Take my advice — beware of women, particularly 
Fatmah ! ” 


PART FOURTH. 


CHAPTEE I. 

On his return to the prison, Lucian Lecomte 
entreated the superintendent to put him into a 
cell instead of obliging him to mingle with the 
other men in the workrooms. Mr. Poulard was 
unable to grant this request, but understanding 
how painful it would be for Lecomte to associate 
with the other prisoners after all that had 
occurred, he promised to find some work for him 
which would keep him away from them during 
the day at least. Accordingly, he was given 
charge of the pumps by which water was raised 
to the great reservoirs on the roof of the building ; 
his only companion was a young soldier who was 
condemned to five years imprisonment for draw- 
ing his sword on a policeman during a drunken 
brawl. Lucian Lecomte and young Armand took 
turns at working the pumps, and as they were 
not very strictly watched, often found opportuni- 
ties for exchanging a few words ; but their great- 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


m 


est pleasure was to go up to the roof of the build- 
ing to find out whether the reservoirs were full. 
From this height they could see the winding 
course of the patrol, and a little court-yard on the 
other side of the wall ; farther on was the end of 
the island on which the prison buildings stood, the 
two branches of the river Seine, and its opposite 
banks. Lucian had not seen such an extended 
view for nearly four years, and the sight of the 
glistening water and verdant foliage made him 
almost forget his sorrow for the moment. When 
night came, however, he was obliged to leave his 
quiet corner and go into the dormitory to sleep. 
Here he was elbowed roughly and looked at 
askance by his former comrades, who took delight 
in subjecting him to every possible annoyance. 

The ringleaders. Brazier and Sagot, had become 
the best possible friends, the latter being Well 
supplied with tobacco and having in prospect the 
promised reward of his successful trickery with 
the supervisor’s notebook. 

It happened, fortunately for Lecomte, however, 
that a former schoolmaster, who had already 
spent five years in the prison, again became an 
inmate. He was a man of no principle, and of 
violent temperament, and was given to forming 
close friendships among his fellow-prisoners. 
Sagot, the cabinet maker, had been a protege and 
satellite of Clopied’s, and the latter was consumed 


208 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


witn jealousy to find that Sagot had attached 
himself to Brazier. He made two or three 
attempts to regain his former follower, but both 
Sagot and Brazier had nearly completed their 
term and the former would not run any risk of 
losing the promised five thousand francs. He 
therefore turned a deaf ear to all Clopied’s per- 
suasions and threats, and the ex-schoolmaster, in 
revenge, set up as the protector of Lecomte ; he 
was joined by some of the other men, and thus 
Lucian profited by the quarrel of Sagot and 
Clopied. 

About a month after Lecomte’s second convic- 
tion, the whole dormitory was aroused suddenly 
in the middle of the night, by hearing loud cries 
for help. The sounds proceeded from Sagot’s 
bed, and Clopied was seen standing over the little 
cabinetmaker with a long sharp knife in his hand. 
Several of the men started up and rushed toward 
him, but before any one could reach him, he had 
plunged the knife twice into Bagot’s heart ; he 
then turned furiously toward Brazier, but Lucian 
Lecomte barred his passage. 

Let me pass, let me pass ! ” cried Clopied, “ I 
am going to kill your enemy ! ” 

I have no enemy,” returned the other, hold- 
ing him back, and at that moment the guards 
rushed in and secured the assassin. 

Brazier was cowering, pale and trembling, in a 


FOR Ills BROTHERS SAKE. 


209 


corner, and Sagot breathed his last just as the 
murderer exclaimed triumphantly that he had 
had his revenge. The latter was led away and 
locked in a cell, the corpse and all traces of the 
murder removed, and then the other prisoners re- 
turned to their narrow beds and were soon sleep- 
ing soundly. 

This tragic occurrence had the effect of produc- 
ing a revulsion of feeling in favor of Lecomte, for 
the other men fully appreciated his conduct 
towards the assassin. 

“ He showed pluck,” said one. 

“ He saved Brazier’s neck — he’s game,” said an- 
other, and from that time they all tried to show 
their approval of him in various ways, so that his 
existence became less insupportable. 

Two 'weeks after this, Cornelius Petit-homme 
returned to his former position as supervisor of 
the workrooms, and Lucian Lecomte had the 
pleasure of receiving loving messages from 
Susanne. 

One day Cornehus took occasion to come into 
the pump-room, and after looking about him 
cautiously, whispered to Lecomte : 

Susanne is making plans for your escape.” 

What ! ” cried the other, “ my escape ? She 
must not do it — she must not think of such a 
thing. She runs the risk of being imprisoned 
herself — tell her I will not have it. Heither she, 


^10 


FOR ms BROTHER'S SAKE. 


nor you, nor any one shall take such a risk for 
me.” 

“ You make a mistake — there is no risk,” said 
Mr. Petit-homme, and then he began speaking 
hurriedly, lest he should not have time to deliver 
all his message : 

^^'No risk — fine plan,” he continued, study all 
this part of the building — know it thoroughly — 
when time comes,- go up to the reservoirs — climb 
up ladders left by workmen — take hold of old 
telegraph pole, tie the five wires together and 
slide down to the roundsman’s path — jump into 
the court-yard at the end of the island — open 
gate — and go to the river bank — ^boat waitiitg — 
you are safe ! ” 

Lucian Lecomte could not help listening eagerly 
to these hasty explanations — perhaps indeed the 
thought of escape had occurred to him while 
he was standing in the free air on the roof. But 
he would not allow his hopes to rise too much, 
and after a few minutes of reflection he said : 

‘‘Petit-homme, you have forgotten an impor- 
tant detail of your scheme. That little court- 
yard is guarded by soldiers.” 

“ Military guard to be removed to-morrow,” re- 
turned Cornelius, “superintendent thinks unneces- 
sary — news certain.” 

“ But there is a sentinel in every one of those 
brick towers.” 


FOR iris BROTHERS SAKE. 


211 


Only at night — during day one guard for that 
part of house — he will absent at right time.” 

Lecomte was undecided for a few moments, but 
then he looked up and said firmly : 

‘‘ It is useless, I thank you for the trouble you 
have taken but I will not try to escape — it is only 
a guilty man who runs away.” 

“ You will not do it ? ” 

“ ^lo, I cannot — I am decided.” 

“Then I have 'more to tell you. Mrs. Petit- 
homme expected your refusal and she told me 
what to say to move you. Wait a moment 
while I recall her words.” 

He paused for a minute and then, like a child 
reciting a lesson, repeated his wife’s message : 

“ Miss Susanne is not at all well. She thinks 
and talks about nothing but you. Her whole 
mind is set on effecting your escape, and she is 
kept up only by the hope of seeing you at liberty. 
If I tell her that it cannot be done, that you wiU 
not attempt it, she wiU break down completely 
and have a fever — she will probably die. You 
have no right to refuse.” 

Lucian Lecomte looked at the speaker fixedly 
and then said : 

“ That is what your wife bade you say, but 
what is your own opinion ? Does not Mrs. Petit- 
homme exaggerate a little — is my niece actually 
in danger? Answer me truly, like a man.” 


212 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


Caesarina is right — Miss Susanne is nervous — 
only one thought in her mind.” 

‘‘ Cannot her father soothe her? ” 

Cornelius looked down in dismay, and when the 
other repeated the question anxiously, the man 
replied : 

“ Caesarina said nothing about your brother.” 

But you can tell me on your own account,” 
cried Lucian, ‘^speak — what of him ! ” 

AVith the greatest hesitation Cornelius answered : 

‘‘We never see him — he spends the day in his 
studio, and goes out every night.” 

“ Oh, the wretched man ! ” said Lucian, “he has 
taken to gambling again. Susanne is alone — she 
has no protector,” and after a short pause he 
added quickly : 

“ I Avill try to escape — have everything 
prepared.” 


FOR HIS BROTHER'S SAKE. 


213 


CHAPTEK II. 

George de Btjssinb was not told of the plans 
that were being made for his brother’s escape, 
lie was, however, much more regular in his habits 
than he had been for some time, spending most of 
the day in his studio, and the evening with his 
friend, Mesereau, who continued to instruct him 
in the art of cheating. It was only at rare 
intervals that he was seen in the club-house, and 
he never staid long, but contented himself with 
stepping in occasionally to meet his friends, Mou- 
rad-Bey among others. 

The former prime-minister seemed to have 
reached the zenith of his fortunes, never had his 
star been more brilliant, than it was now. The 
sensational newspapers reported his every move- 
ment, and dilated upon his wealth and magnifi- 
cence ; the exact number of horses in his stables 
was given in print, with their pedigrees and 
names, and even the prices paid for them ; when 
he gave a dinner-party, every dish was described 
in the morning papers, when he appeared at the 
theatre, the fact was heralded abroad — in short 
the King of the sharpers, had become also the 
King of Fashion. 

Far from suspecting that all this notoriety and 
admiration would be apt to arouse envy, and 


214 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE, 


lead people to inquire into the sources of his colos- 
sal wealth, Mourad-Bey, with characteristic self- 
complancy, congratulated himself on his success, 
and threw his money about with ever increasing 
prodigality. Early in the winter he resolved to 
give an entertainment that would be long remem- 
bered. Every one was talking about it, and 
speculating on its magnificence; when Mourad 
accosted George de Bussine on the subject. 

“You will give me the pleasure of your com- 
pany, Count he asked. 

“ Certainly, I shall be most happy.” 

“ And your charming daughter will grace my 
hall with her presence ?” 

“ Susanne, your excellency ? Oh no, she never 
goes to entertainments.” 

“ Why not ? The best people have accepted my 
invitations, and will bring their wives and 
daughters.” 

“ My daughter does not care for society at all, 
pray do not urge me further.” 

After many more arguments and persuasions, 
Mourad added : 

“ If she declines to come I shall think that she 
bears malice because I did not succeed in getting 
the release of her friend from Melun. But I have 
not given up hope yet. I am sure that it will be 
an easy matter to buy some one of the minor 
officials of the prison, and then the doors will be 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


215 


opened to him. I shall be glad to offer fifty- 
thousand francs, or even a hundred thousand if 
necessary — I am determind to encompass the 
difficulty in one way or another. Tell your 
daughter that I will place my entire fortune at 
her disposal, or, if you prefer, we can keep the 
matter entirely between ourselves, until our object 
is accomphshed. As to my fete, I shall expect to 
see you both — remember, your daughter will 
offend me grievously if she does not attend.” 

George de Bussine had already conceived the 
idea of his , brother escaping from prison, but he 
had not been able to keep his shallow mind on the 
matter long enough to arrive at any definite plan. 
But Mourad’s words seemed to throw new light 
on the matter, and convert the vague hope into a 
possibility, and he resolved to speak to Susanne 
at once on the subject. 

He went home directly, and finding his 
daughter all alone began telling 'her of his desire 
to see his brother at liberty. 

“I think of him more than you imagine,” h« 
said ; “ and I belie vef that I have at last hit upon 
an idea.” 

“What is it ?” she asked wonderingly, but when 
he told her that his plan was to bribe some one in 
the prison, she answered sadly : 

“ What would you bribe him with ?” 


216 


FOR ms BROTHER'S SAKE. 


With money, of course, I think I can get some 
from a friend,” 

“ Who is it ?” 

‘‘ Mourad-Bey.” 

She started to her feet at the name, and 
exclaimed excitedly, 

Papa, I beg that you will never mention that 
man to me again !” 

^‘Why, what has he done?” asked George, 
astonished at her vehemence ; but when she told 
him of Mourad’s conduct at the time of his last 
visit, her father was transported with indignation. 

‘‘ What a villain !” he cried ; and to think that 
I have shaken hands with him since then! You 
were wrong, Susanne, not to tell me before, I have 
not always done my duty by you, I confess, but I 
have certain rights, for I am your father.” 

‘‘You were once,” she murmured sadly, looking 
straight into his eyes. 

“ Ah, my child, you forget,” he said, but she 
added quickly : 

“ I forget nothing, unfortunately, I cannot for- 
get. But we need not speak of the past, for that 
concerns my uncle only — he has expiated it. I 
am thinking only of the present, of your broken 
vow, that vow which you made by the dead body 
of your wife — not content with torturing her dur- 
ing her life, you will not allow her to rest peace- 
fully in her grave.” 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


217 


Her voice was low but agitated, and ber father, 
bowing his head listened to her in silence, as if 
powerless to speak. 

“ And what a time you have chosen to return to 
your old practices !” went on Susanne breathlessly, 

just when your brother is most wretched. He is, 
the second time, accused unjustly and is thrust 
back into prison just when he thought to leave it, 
and be free once more — seven years more, seven 
long years, and yet he does not reproach you ; he 
writes to me and tells me to be patient with you. 
Alas, I have disobeyed him, he who has never for- 
gotten me — he only, is my father.” 

Cassarina, entering at that moment, the girl 
rushed up to her and throwing herself into her 
arms burst into bitter tears. Mrs. Petit-homme 
soothed her tenderly and then turning to the 
wretched father said sternly : 

You have made your child weep, and that is 
the only good action you have ever performed ; 
her tears will do her good — leave her to me.” 

He obeyed in silence, and going into his studio, 
walked the floor, absorbed in thought. 

Toward night, Fatmah entered, but he did not 
hear nor see her, until she touched his shoulder 
softly, and then looking at his haggard face, she 
whispered : 

You are unhappy. ' Am I the cause ?” 

‘‘ Ho — my daughter.” 


21S 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE 


Sh© ? That is still worse. Tell me all — confide 
in me — it will do you good.” 

And so, still pacing the floor wildly, he told 
her all. Told her of his passion for play, of his 
wife’s death, of the yow he had made, and of his 
life in Africa ; then, of his return to Paris think- 
ing himself cured of his vice ; of his relapse, owing 
to his love for her, — for Patmah, his determina- 
tion to make money, and of his daughter’s 
reproaches. 

When he ceased speaking, the Circassian said 
musingly : 

“I never thought of your daughter — I merely 
obeyed Mourad as I had always done — ^hesent me 
here to you !” 

“ He told you to deceive me 1” he cried. 

“Yes,” she answered simply; “and I never 
knew why he did it until I discovered that he loved 
your daughter. I begin to understand it all.” 
She turned away from him and slowly left the 
room. 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


219 


CHAPTEK. III. 

At two o’clock in the morning the brilliancy 
of Mourad-Bey’s entertainment was at its height. 
All the guests had arrived and not one had yet had 
the courage to tear himself away from the splendors 
of the fete. The gorgeous rooms were f uU of dan- 
cers, and numberless domestics in their master’s liv- 
ery moved about carrying wines and ices. Those 
persons who passed through the grand halls and 
reached the gardens were fairly dazzled with the 
beauty of the scene. The whole place had been 
transformed into an immense conservatory or 
winter-garden. The guests found themselves 
suddenly transported to the tropics, and on every 
side was a luxuriant growth of enormous leaves 
and flowers of brilliant color. Here rose tall 
palm-trees from beds of delicate ferns, there a 
mass of dracenas was surrounded by a border of 
many hued begonias; while a little farther on was 
a great cluster of caladimus, over-shadowed by 
banana-trees loaded with fruit. Still farther on, 
near some superb Abysinian enphorbians, was a 
grassy sward, enameled with the little red bells 
of numberless glocinias. All these magnificent 
plants and trees which had been brought, at great 
expense, from the largest hot-houses in the neigh- 
borhood, mingled with the ordinary trees of the 


220 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


garden, but the trunks of the latter were skilfully 
concealed by tropical climbing plants which 
seemed to have grown there naturally. Even the 
shrubs had been made to disajDpear under Indian 
bamboos, and from every out-spreading branch 
hung wonderful orchilds, and great clusters of 
flowers — red, blue, and golden. The air of the 
garden was fragrant with a hundred sweet and 
penetrating, but delicate, odors, which seemed to 
come from distant lands, so undefinable and 
strange were they. 

hfo chandeliers nor candelabras were visible, 
yet a soft brilliancy filled the place, for electric 
lights, carefully concealed by the foliage, diffused 
a fairy-like radiance. At the farthest end of the 
gardens, behind a grove of palm trees, a fine 
orchestra played the melodies of Schumanh, Cho- 
pin and Mendelssohn, and the reveries of "Weber; 
no one thought of dancing in this garden of Para- 
dise, one was quite content to listen and gaze 
and inhale. 

The owner of all this luxury and elegance 
strolled about in ordinary evening dress, doing 
the honors with his customary ease and grace of 
♦ manner, and receiving compliments on every side, 
on the beauty and richness of his fete. And yet, 
in spite of the flattery and praise bestowed on him, 
he was discontented and restless, for the Count 
de Bussine and his daughter had not come. He 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


221 


had thought to dazzle Susanne by the sight of his 
magnificence, and he was surprised to find that 
her father had ventured to disregard his wishes. 

He had but to say the word and George de Bus- 
sine would be completely at his mercy, and he 
vowed that if she did not come at all, he would 
go that very night to Sivasti and give the last 
instructions. The five sharpers whom the secre- 
tary employed were present at the ball, for Mourad 
had invited the other members of the club, and 
did not dare to leave them out, lest they should 
suspect Mourad-Bey of knowing their calling, in 
fact, of being the mysterious personage who 
watched them to closely. 

Several rooms were devoted to cards, and the 
sharpers sat- down to play willingly, for they said 
to themselves that here was an opportunity of 
making money without being obliged to share it 
equally with Sidi-Bou-Sa’id. 

Mesereau, who kept his promise not to play at 
all, either honestly or dishonestly, walked about 
among the waving palms, and at last stopped and 
joined a group of his acquaintances who were 
talking eagerly. After expressing the greatest 
admiration at the beauty of the scene, some one || 
remarked that their hostmust be a man of very 
great wealth, and another answered that he had * 
learned from a Tunisian of high rank who had 
been passing through Paris that the Prime min- 


222 for his brothers sake. 

ister’s property had all been confiscated by the 
Bey at the time of his disgrace, so that since his 
arrival in France he had received no income 
whatever from his own country. 

“But he had amassed a large quantity of jewels 
and stones of priceless value, I heard,” observed 
another person. 

“Yes, but he did not bring them to France.” 
In reply to the eager questioning of his friends, 
the speaker explained that during his last visit to 
Marseilles he had run against the captain of the 
steamer in which Mourad had embarked, with 
his secretary Sivasti, and a beautiful Circassian 
slave. This man recounted the adventure with the 
Arabs and the loss of the jewels. Every one was 
filled with amazement on hearing this tale, and 
no one could refrain from wondering where Mou- 
rad had got his great wealth. 

“ Perhaps he gambles,” suggested some one; 
but the others exclaimed quickly that Mourad 
Bey never touched a card. “And yet,” said 
another person thoughtfully, “ he haunts the bac- 
carat tables regularly, and spends very little time 
in any other part of a club-house.” The con- 
versation was now interrupted and the speakers 
Separated, much to the disappointment of Mesereau, 
who found the subject one of the keenest interest. 
He had often seen Mourad watching him at bac- 
carat, but had never for one instant suspected 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


223 


that this mighty personage was the accomplice 
of Sidi-Bou-Said. Could the latter he Sivasti, 
the minister’s secretary? As he sauntered on, 
absorbed in thought, he made his way mechanic- 
ally to the card-rooms, and here another surprise 
awaited him. 

He recognized four men whom he had seen at 
clubs, but with whom he was not acquainted, and 
as he stood Avatching the games his practised eye 
caught sight of regular and repeated cheating 
skilfully performed at the different tables by these 
four individuals. “What is the meaning of 
this ?” he said to himself. “ Are these men my 
fellow-workers in the employ of Mourad-Eey, and 
does he think to pay the expenses of his fete by 
dispoiling his guests ? Does he wish to give with 
one hand and take with the other ?” 

The next day, Sivasti sent for Mesereau and 
ordered him to set his pupil to work at once. 
The latter objected, on the grounds that de Bus- 
sine was not yet sufficiently skillful to Avork Avith- 
out fear of detection. “ And suppose he is detect- 
ed ?” asked Sivasti sharply, “ that will not concern 
you, will it ?” 

“I should not like to see my pupil suffer failure, 
and besides I have no wish to injure Mr. de Bus- 
sine — ” began Mesereau, but his listener inter- 
rupted him by saying that he was to do his em- 
ployer’s bidding without delay, and threatening 


224 : 


irOR BIS BR0TEEB8 SAKB. 


liim vnih instant exposure and ruin if he did not 
obey. The two men argued the matter for some 
time, and at last parted angrily. Mesereau went at 
once to de Bussine and confided to him his sus- 
picions, and in return the artist explained to his 
new friend all that had occurred concerning Mou- 
rad, Fatmah, and Susanne. 


CHAPTER lY. 

The club-house which George de Bussine had 
so long frequented was more crowded than usual 
on the seventh of December, 187 — Among others, 
were the young lawyer Lafleur and his friend 
Amelin, also Mesereau and de Bussine, while 
Mourad hovered about as was his custom, waiting 
for baccarat to begin. 

The bank was soon put up at auction and Mese- 
reau whispered to de Bussine, that now was his 
time. 

Are you sure that the three packs of cards the 
banker holds are ours?’’ asked George. 

“ Perfectly sure. I have just put them on the 
table and taken the others away. Ho one was 
looking, and you may play with perfect confi- 
dence.” 

George then secured the bank and took his 
place at the table, and as he did so Mourad could 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. £25 

hardly repress a smile of satisfaction ; he saw 
that his plan was working well, and that ' he 
should soon have the father of Susanne completely 
in his poAver. The laAvyer Lafleur Avas also 
pleased, for he kneAV that the count was a luckless 
player, and so he promised himself a fine harvest 
at his expense, and the four sharpers hastened to 
the table and threw down their money, feeling 
sure of victory. "What was the surprise and dis- 
may of every one present when the count won 
three times in succession, and shoAved no sign of 
wishing to yield his place. 

‘‘ It cannot last,” said Lafleur nervously ; “ he is 
proverbially unlucky,” and yet the banker con- 
tinued to gather in money and counters until 
many of his opponents lost courage and ceased 
playing. 

One or tAA^o small losses on the part of de 
Bussine, however, served to entrap them again, 
and all excepting the four sharpers returned 
to the charge with renewed hopes. The latter 
had discovered the secret, and stood Avatching 
de Bussine’s play Avith the keenest interest and 
admiration. 

At last, the banker, J)y a brilliant stroke, Avon 
everything that his adversaries possessed, and the 
playing came necessarily to an end. A dead 
silence followed, and then the players began to 
leave the table, some in despair, some indifier- 


226 for ms BROTHERS SAE'E 


ently, otliers merely amazed, but de Bussine called 
out in a loud voice : 

“ Friends, do not go yet, I want to settle ac- 
counts with you.” 

They looked at him in silence, wondering what 
he meant, and he added carelessly ; 

“ This money is yours, and each one of you 
may take what you have lost.” 

“ What do you mean ? ” asked several voices, 
and the winner replied : 

“ I mean that I cannot keep your money, for I 
won it with marked cards, which were furnished 
me by my employer, Mourad-Bey.” 

All eyes were instantly turned upon the Tunisian, 
and then every one gathered round de Bussine in 
the greatest excitement, but Mourad stood per- 
fectly still, stroking his moustache and gazing 
round him, with an air of profound astonishment; 
on the green table between him and his accuser 
was the great heap of counters, notes, and gold 
pieces. At last Lafleur, the lawyer, spoke. 

“ That is a very serious charge, and ought to be 
explained and proved,” said he, and his words 
were echoed by a dozen voices. 

“ I am ready — listen, gentlemen,” said de Bus- 
sine. 

And then, in a quiet but distinct tone, he gave 
a detailed account of Mourad’s flight from Tunis, 
of the ship- wreck, and the loss of the treasure, 


Fo:u Mis BRotMEMs same. 


m 


furnishing, moreover,, the names of his informants 
on the subject. Then he proceeded to explain the 
Tunisian’s mode of operations since his residence 
in Paris, his complicity with his former secretary 
in employing sharpers to cheat at play, and 
share all their profits equally with him. 

Having thus accounted for Mourad’s constant 
appearance in the baccarat-rooms, de Bussine be- 
gan to speak of himself, confessing that after 
having lost everything in gambling, he had 
exerted himself to acquire the methods of winning 
which were proposed to him by an agent of Mou- 
rad-Bey. 

“ To-night I have made my first attempt,” he 
said in conclusion,” and you have all seen the suc- 
cess of my efforts. I obeyed orders, I took the 
bank, I used the marked packs which had been 
placed on the table, and I ruined all my opponents. 
Only instead of dividing the spoils with Mourad- 
Bey, I am going to restore the money to you, 
gentlemen. The ten thousand francs with which 
I began to play, were furnished by my employer, 
and you may divide them among yourselves, or 
give them to the poor, as you prefer. I do not 
want to keep them, although as you all know, I 
lost my entire fortune here, four years ago.” 

A buzz of approbation followed his words, and 
then some one ordered Mourad to answer the 
charges brought against him. 


^28 BIS BROTBEB’S SAKE. 

“ Mr. de Bussine has been pleased to make me 
the hero of a charming romance,” he began slowly 
and with affected indifference and contempt, but 
you will no doubt be glad to have the simple truth 
of the matter. 

“ I have always told you that no sharper could 
safely practice his infamous profession in my pre- 
sence, for I should instantly detect him.” 

“ That would not help us very much,” said some 
one, “ a king does not devour his own subjects.” 

‘^ISTo, but sometimes his subjects devour him!” 
murmured ‘‘ Audacity ” with a grim smile. 

The Tunisian, without heeding these interrup- 
tions, continued his explanation by saying that he 
had caught the banker in the act of cheating, and 
that all this pretended exposure was merely a 
blind on de Bussine’s part to save himself from 
denunciation. 

I anticipated this attack,” said the latter, 
calmly, and therefore wrote a letter to the presi- 
dent of the club telling him of the revelations I 
intended to make. Have you received my letter, 
sir ?” 

“ Yes, half an hour ago,” replied the president, 
who was a man of good position and universally 
esteemed, but I have not found time to open it 
yet,” and taking the missive from his pocket, he 
read it aloud. 

‘‘ This establishes your innocence completely/’ 


FOR ms BROTHER'S SAKE. 


229 


he remarked, “but it does not prove anything 
against Mourad-Bey.” 

“ I wrote to you, as well as to the presidents of 
other clubs, about a month ago,’’ returned de Bus- 
sine, “warning you to put some private mark 
upon every bank-note paid out to winners at 
baccarat. If you have done this, an examination 
of Mourad’s pocket book will no doubt prove the 
truth of my accusation.” The Tunisian could not 
refuse to deliver up his bank-notes for inspection, 
and as they were easily identified by the managers 
of the card-room, not a doubt remained in the 
minds of the witnesses. Great excitement pre- 
vailed for several minutes, but when Mourad 
turned to leave the room the crowd made way 
for him, and he retreated slowly, caressing his 
long moustache and with the usual languid ex- 
pression in his eyes. 

Mesereau, in making his plans had foreseen that 
the hope of having their money returned to them 
would prevent the players from leaving before the 
drama was concluded, and de Bussine now pro- 
ceeded to make the restitution he had promised. 
That done he received the warm thanks of all, 
and then the players took their places again, the 
bank has put up at auction, and the game went 
on, 


230 


FOB HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


CHAPTEK. Y. 

Motjkad-Bey, wrapped in his fur pelisse, with a 
lighted cigar between his lips, walked slowly along 
the boulevard in the direction of the Madeleine. 
He did not know where he was going or what he 
was going to do, for he was dazed by the sudden 
and unexpected blow which had fallen upon him. 

He was ruined, utterly ruined, fortune and honor 
both were gone, and yet he was not entirely over- 
whelmed, for his philosophy, or rather his Eastern 
fatalism, sustained him. 

‘‘ That game is lost, I must try another,” he 
said to himself, and then he wondered what 
measures the members of the club would take 
against him. Would they be contented with 
expelling him, or would they report the matter to 
the police? He decided to go and see Sivasti, 
and having now reached the Place de TOpera, 
called to a cab-driver whom he had often employed. 
The man recognized him at once and expressed 
his sorrow at being already engaged. 

“I have to go to Montmartre, rue Gabrielle, 
your excellency, to fetch a lady to Passy, rue du 
Kanelagh.” 

“Kue Gabrielle!” repeated Mourad quickly, 
what number ?” 


FOR HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


231 


Fourteen*’’ returned the man, “ if yon want to 
go to Montmartre I can take yon at once.” 

“ Who engaged you ? ” asked Mourad eagerly, 
for the address given was that of do Bussine’s 
house. 

“ A young gentleman, who spoke with the Eng- 
lish accent, your excellency. He is a handsome 
fellow, and has often engaged me before. He said 
he Would not entrust the young lady to any one 
else.” 

Mourad knew that it must be Lionel Murdon, 
for he had lately seen him coming out of a house 
near Fatmah’s in the rue du Eanelagh, and he 
instantly resolved to profit by the opportunity 
for revenge thus unexpectedly thrown in his way. 
“ How much is he to pay you ? ” he asked of the 
driver. 

“ One louis, your excellency. ” 

“ Suppose I add twenty-five louis to it ! ” 

“Twenty-five ? I will take you anywhere ” 

“Ho, that is not what I want. You will go to 
Montmartre and fetch the lady as you agreed; 
and you .wiU take her to the rue du Eanelagh, 
only, instead of stopping at Ho. 32, you will drive 
into the court-yard of Ho. 48. The two houses 
are exactly alike, and in the darkness you can 
easily make a mistake. ” 

“ Of course, ” replied the man, ” an4 indeed I ' 


232 


mu UIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


am not very sure that the young Englishman 

said ISTo. 32 perhaps it was 48 after all ! ” 

“ Very likely ” said Mourad, “and in order to 
keep the latter number in your mind, take these 
five louis; and call at my house to-morrow for 
twenty more.” 

The man whipped up his horses and set off at 
once, while Mourad taking another cab, drove 
with all speed to Fatmah’s abode, No. 48, rue du 
Kanelagh. On reaching the house he told the 
driver to wait as he was to take a lady into Paris, 
and then he went hurriedly into Fatmah’s pres- 
ence. “ I have come to ask a favor of you, ” he 
said as she rose from a divan where she had fallen 
asleep, “ I want to use this room for a few hours. 
Be good enough to go to my house in Paris where 
I will soon join you. There is a carriage waiting 
at the door. ” 

“Who are you going to receive here?” she 
asked. 

“ Sivasti, I met him a short time ago and made 
an appointment with him. ” 

“ It will not be necessary for me to leave the 
house. I will remain in my own room and give up 
this one to you. ” 

“ No, no, that will not do — you must go. ” 

“It is not Sivasti that you expect, “she said 
suddenly, “ it is a woman. ” 

“Well, and suppose it is ? Why should you ol> 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


ject ? In Tunis, you were not the only woman in 
the house, were you 1 ” 

“hTo, but we are not in Tunis now — ” 

Mourad tried to conceal his impatience and 
said calmly, “ This is a matter of vengeance, Fat- 
mah, and you must not oppose me. I have been 
insulted, grossly insulted, and my very existence 
threatened. Chance has thrown a means of revenge 
in my way, and I intend to profit by it. You 
must obey me. ” 

“ Who insulted you ? ” she asked, and he replied, 
“ George de Bussine. ” 

“You have revenged yourself on him before- 
hand, ” said Fatmah. “ Through me you have made 
him suffer sufficiently already. You have caused 
him to lose his daughter’s affections — ” she 
stopped short as a new idea entered her mind, and 
then she cried suddenly, “Is it she you expect ? ” 
He made no reply. 

“ It is ! ” she said, “ I understood it all, but you 
shall not bring her here, I shall not go. ” 

Mourad, unable to control himself any longer, 
started up furiously and cried, “ Be careful Fat- 
mah! Eemember you are nothing but a slave, 
bought and paid for. I am your owner, and if 
you disobey me I will punish you. ” 

Fatmah’s eyes gleamed brilliantly as he spoke, 
and she panted for breath as she looked at him in 
silence. Then, after a long pause, she changed 


234 FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE ■ 

her aspect suddenly, and gliding toward him she 
put one arm around his neck and whispered softly, 
“ Is that woman lovlier than I am — do you love 
her better?” 

He answered not and she continued sadly, “ Be 
it so, then, I will obey you as I have always 
done — farewell!” she pressed her arm more 
closely round him, and when he exclaimed that 
something had pricked his neck she said, “It 
must have been the pins in my hair, pardon me — 
Farewell!” 

As she left the room slowly and sadly, the 
sound of approaching carriage wheels was heard 
in the street outside. 


CHAPTEE VI. 

The seventh of December, 187-, so disastrous 
for Mourad-Bey, was an unusually lugubrious day 
in the prison at Melun. At five o’clock in the 
morning preperations were begun for the execu- 
tion of Clopied, who had been condemned to 
death for the premeditated murder of Sagot, his 
fellow-prisoner. All the inmates of the prison 
were to witness the execution, and great excit- 
ment prevailed among the prisoners, when, at half- 
past six o’:clock, the great bell rang and they werQ 


FOE ms BE0THEE8 SAKE. 


235 


all drawn up in lines in the long corridor. 'The 
guillotine had been erected in the open square 
in front of the prison, and a squadron of hussars, 
and a body of police were stationed near it. 
There was a heavy fog that morning hanging 
over the river and its shores, and the scaffold 
was only dimly lighted by the red lanterns 
which could hardly dispel the black shadows, of 
the guillotine. 

Lucian Lecomte gave little thought to the com- 
ing tragedy, for his friends had decided that this 
would be the best day for him to escape from the 
prison. The unwonted confusion produced by 
the execution, and the removal of all the guards 
and prisoners from the back part of the buildings, 
were calculated to make his flight an easy matter, 
especially as his fellow-worker. Armand had 
been taken ill and sent to the infirmary a few 
days before. 

Cornelius Petit-homme had wished Lecomte to 
ask the superintendent’s permission to absent 
himself from the painful scene of the execution ; 
but this Lucian had refused to do, saying that he 
would not be willing to make the escape, if his 
flight was to compromise ^any one else, and that, 
it would be most base of him to expose to censure 
a man who had taken such a friendly interest in 
hifti as Mr. Poulard had done. As it was, no one 
■y^ould be severely blamed for his flighty and tbg 


236 


FOR ms BROTHER'S SAKE. 


only difficulty was for him to escape notice at the 
time that the prisoners were marched out to the 
scaffold. 

As that moment drew near, Lecomte mingled 
with his companions instead of going as usual to 
the pump-room ; but when the roll had been called, 
and, at a signal from the guard, the double files 
of men began to march out of the building, he 
contrived to slip away unperceived. A few 
seconds later he was on the roof and had seized 
hold of the telegraph wires; they bent and 
stretched with his weight, and for an instant he 
feared that he would fall between the high walls, 
whence escape would be utterly hopeless ; but he 
succeeded in reaching the little courtyard, and 
here he found the long wooden beam promised 
him, which he placed against the gate, and scram- 
bling he let himself down on the other side. 
The thick fog almost hid the river from his sight, 
but he soon saw a young man hurrying towards 
him. Without a word he followed the stranger 
to the water’s edge, where lay a small boat, and 
the two men getting in, Lecomte lay down at 
the stern, while the other took up the oars and 
with a few strong strokes sent the boat out into 
the middle of the stream. In a short time the 
bridge and the last of the prison buildings had been 
passed^ and as the fog showed no signs of lifting, 


FOR ms BROTHER’S SAKE. 237 

tKe two men in the boat were perfectly invisible 
from the shore. 

“ Mr. Lecomte,” said the young man, without 
stopping his oars for an instant, there is a suit of 
clothes under the seat next you. Put them on, 
please, as fast as possible, make yours into a bun- 
dle, tie them up with that cord which has a stone 
at one end and throw them overboard. ” 

Lucian lost no time in doing as he was told, and 
it was with indescribable joy that he rolled up 
the hated uniform and cast it into the water ; he 
was now clad in a suit of English cloth, loosely 
made and similar in style to that worn by his 
companion ; he sat up in the stern of the boat, feel- 
ing like a new man, his eyes sparkling, and a 
smile upon his lips. 

Suddenly, however, he caught sight of a 1 arg 
boat containing several men, which shot out from 
the shore and seemed about to bar the way. He 
gave himself up for lost, thinking that his flight 
had been discovered, and the bridge police tele- 
graphed to stop him ; the young boatman, sharing 
this suspicion, increased his speed, hoping to 
profit by the lightness of hds boat, and just then 
one of the men called out : 

‘‘Take the middle arch— there is a barge 
foundered on this side !” 

The great bridge of Corbeille was now seen 
emerging from the fog, and the little boat, ac- 


238 


POR Bm BROTHERS SAKE. 


cording to the warning received, passed under in 
safety and soon left it far behind. Then, for the 
first time, the oarsman stopped rowing and letting 
the boat drift with the current, said : 

“Mr. Lecomte, I am Lionel Murdon. I think 
you have heard of me. , I have had the happiness 
of knowing your niece for nearly four years. 
She begs you to place entire confidence in me.” 

Lucian held out his hand without speaking, and 
the other grasped it warmly. 

“I have no idea how this voyage will end, but 
I thank you from my heart for what you have 
done,” said Lecomte. 

“ Do not thank me,” replied Lionel, “ I am only 
too happy to be allowed to help a man who has 
practised such heroic self-sacrifice.” 

“ She has told you,” cried Lucian. 

“ She tells me everything,” said the young man 
simply, and then with his eyes fixed upon his 
listener, he added : 

“We love each other.” 

He took up his oars again, and Lucian, a little 
troubled by his last ^vords, was silent for several 
minutes. 

“ Are we going to Paris ? ” he said at last. 

“Yes, a large city is always the best place to 
hide in, and besides. Miss Susanne is so anxious to 
see you.” 

“ Can I see her to day ? ” asked Lucian eagerly. 


FOR B18 BROmFl^S SAKF. 


m 

Yes, it is arranged that as soon as we reach 
the city, I am to send a cab to bring her to a 
small house that I have hired in the Kue de 
Ranelagh, where you will have to stay for some 
time.’’ 

‘‘ But if we do not reach Paris until night, how 
can Susanne come all the way from Montmartre 
alone in a hired vehicle ; do you think it is quite 
safe?” 

I thought of that,” said Lionel, “ and tried to 
persuade Miss Susanne to come during the day 
and await your arrival, but she did not wish to 
come to my house until she was sure that her 
uncle was there, and I felt bound to respect her 
scruples.” 

‘‘ You were right,” said Lucian quietly, and he 
could not help observing how the young man’s 
face brightened, and his frank blue eyes were 
filled with tenderness, while he was speaking of 
Susanne. 

All day long Lionel Murdon rowed steadily, 
without seeming to feel fatigued, die pulled a 
long regular stroke, which, without betraying 
any haste, ‘sent the boat swiftly down the stream. 
His chest was broad, and his bare arms strong 
and muscular, and they plied the oars with as 
little effort as if the journey had just begun. 

“ Let me row,” said Lucian, ‘‘while you rest a 
little.” 


240 for ms BRomms sake. 

“ 1^0, 1 am not tired. I have often rowed all 
day long on the rivers and lakes of Ireland.” 

After sunset the fog grew thicker so that the fugi- 
tives were often in danger of running against the 
large masses of timber floating down the river, 
and as the banks were stiU invisible, they could 
form no deflnite idea of their own whereabouts. 
Toward evening however, they recognized the 
lights of Paris, and heard the distant hum of the 
great city, and soon after the outline of the 
bridges came in view and warned them to be 
cautious. After proceeding some distance farther, 
Lionel Murdon suddenly left the channel, and ran 
under the shadow of the schoolship, and then by 
means of a boathook he caught hold of an empty 
barge which was lying at anchor, and the two 
men leaped from one boat to another until they 
reached the shore. Just as they had climbed up 
the side of the wharf, they were accosted by two 
policemen, who asked what they had been doing. 

“We have only been out rowing,” replied Lionel, 
speaking French with an exaggerated English 
accent, and the ofiicers exclaimed supiciously : 

“ Out rowing at this time bf night in December ? 
Where do you live.” 

“ At the Grand Hotel,” said Lionel. “We set out 
soon after luncheon and did not expect to be 
^caught in a fog. We are ready for our dinner, I 
can teU you,” he added laughingly, and taking his 


POR HlS BROTHERS SAKE. 241 

colnpanion’s arm, lie drew him away, while one 
policeman said to the pther : 

“These Englishmen are all alike, they never 
stop for the tveather.” 

Lionel and Lucian now hastened to take a cab, 
directing the driver to the “ Grand Hotel,” and on 
arriving on the Boulevard des Capucines they got 
out, and when the driver was out of sight 
they walked toward the Madeleine. It was now 
half -past eleven o’clock, and two men in their long 
overcoats, the collars turned up as if on account 
of the dampness, did not attract any particular 
attention. 

While Lionel was looking around for another 
cab, a voice behind him said suddenly : 

“ Do you want to go to Passy, sir ? ” and turn- 
ing quickly he saw a cab-driver whom he had 
often employed, and hastened to arrange with 
him for the conveyance of Miss de Bussine from 
Montmartre to Eue de Kanelagh. He then went 
to his house with Lucian Lecomte, while the cab- 
man stopping for a moment at the Place de 
r Opera, w^as accosted by Mourad-Bey, who made 
a slight alteration in Lionel’s arrangments, as we 
have already seen. 


m 


mn Bis BBOTBEBS SAKE, 


CHAPTEK YII. 

Ever since the morning, Susanne had been a 
prey to agonizing doubts and fears ; at ten o’clock 
she sat down at the window and w*atched the 
passers by anxiously, dreading that Lionel Murdon 
would return to tell her that the plan of escape 
had failed ; but toward noon she began to hope, 
and at one o’clock her joy was complete, for she 
knew that her uncle must have succeeded in leav- 
ing the prison. Soon, however, fresh doubts rose 
in her mind ; perhaps both men had been arrested 
before getting into the boat, or perhaps they had 
met with an accident on the river, the fog was so 
heavy ; a thousand fears tormented her, and when 
evening came she went to the window every five 
minutes, and throwing it open looked out eagerly. 
Why did no carriage come for her, what could 
have happened, was she doomed to pass the 
night as she had passed the day ? At last, a cab 
turned the street-corner, she watched it coming 
and wondered anxiously whether it would pass 
the house as so many others had done. But no, 
it stopped before her door ; she waited a minute, 
but no one got out, and Susanne, with a cry of 
joy, threw on a long dark cloak with a deep hood, 
and hurried out to the carriage. 

The driver took her to the Kue du Eanelagh, 


HIS BitOmMS SAKK 


m 


and into the court-yard of No. 48, and as soon as 
she had stepped out he drove away quickly, while 
the door of the house was opened promptly, and 
the young girl ushered in. She found herself in 
a square vestibule which was lighted by hanging 
lamps, but the servant had disappeared and no one 
was visible. She stood disconsolate, knowing that 
if her uncle and Lionel were there they would 
have come to greet her, and then, seeing a door 
standing wide open, she went into a large room. 
What was her astonishment to find that the walls 
were hung with heavy draperies, and the fioor 
covered with thick soft rugs, while in the middle 
of the apartment was a long divan of costly silk 
to match the walls, and scattered about the room 
were Turkish cushions made of the richest mater- 
ials ! This did not in the least answer the de- 
scription which Lionel had given her of the house. 
Where could she be, what mistake had been made ? 
She turned hastily to retrace her steps, but the 
door had been closed behind her, and just as she 
put her hand on the knob she heard the key 
turned from the other side. Terror stricken at 
finding herself locked in, she looked round for a 
window, but there* was none ! The room was 
lighted by means of long narrow apertures at a 
height of nine feet from the fioor. The solitude 
and death-like silence of the place appalled her, 
and she began to call for help, but her voice 


244 


FOR ms BROTBEFS SAKE, 


could not penetrate the heavy draperies, but 
seemed to return to her like an echo, and the air 
was loaded with perfumes that were sweet yet 
stifling. At last, wearied with calling, she stood 
silent for a minute, and was startled to see the 
hangings at the other end of the room parted 
suddenly. 

Mourad-Bey came slowly toward her with a 
smile of triumph on his lips. He was very pale 
and his limbs seemed to tremble as he walked, 
and when he reached the centre of the room he 
stopped, and looked at her fixedly as he said: 
“ You see it is useless for you to call, your voice 
can not be heard beyond this room. Your driver, 
by mistake, no doubt, brought you here instead of 
to Ho. 48, where Mr. Lionel Murdon is awaiting 
you. ^ I am delighted, however, to be able to pro- 
fit by the man’s error. ” 

Susanne’s only reply was, “ Open this door at 
once, ” and as he shook his head, she asked, Why 
should you keep me here against my will ? ” 

Bor two reasons, ” he answered, ‘‘ first, because 
I love you madly, and second, because I want to 
be revenged upon your father, who has this very 
night insulted me grossly. ” 

‘‘Hever has insult been so well deserved!” 
she cried, raising her head. 

“ You think so ? Well, now you are in the power 
of the man who has received the insult ; you can 


FOM HIS BROTHERS SAKE. 


245 


not escape him. You will be obliged to listen while 
he tells you of his love. This time no one will 
come to your rescue. ” She did not answer, but 
leaned heavily against the door, with her hands 
clasped, and her eyes fixed on the ground, her 
form concealed by the dark cloak, and the hood 
half covering her golden hair, while the brightly- 
colored silken hangings made a brilliant back- 
ground to the picture. Mourad looked at her in 
silence, then took a few steps forward, but gradu- 
ally his limbs lost their power and he could move 
no farther; his death-like pallor increased, and at 
last his knees gave way and he sank powerless 
upon a cushion. 

The next instant Susanne heard the door open- 
ing behind her, and some one taking hold of her 
arm, drew her into the vestibule. 

When Mourad looked up again Susanne was 
gone, and in her place stood Fatmah in her orien- 
tal dress. 

You here!” he said, angrily. 

‘‘Yes,” she answered; “I have s^ved your 
intended victim, and now I have come to die \Adth 
you.” 

“ Die !” he repeated ; “ I have only been over- 
come by the heavy perfumes of this room, but I 
am better now, I can stand ” 

“Ifou cannot!” she said, 


246 


FOR Ills BROTHERS SAKE. 


“ I can, I shall!” cried Mouracl-Bey ; all my life 
I have been able to do whatever I wished.” 

‘‘ Try to rise,” she said calmly, and the man 
pressing his arms against the cushions made vain 
efforts to regain his feet. His legs were as if 
paralyzed, and he was powerless to move — a con- 
vulsive shiver shook his whole frame, and his 
teeth chattered audibly. 

What is the matter with me ?” he groaned. 

‘‘ I will tell you,” she said in a low tone; “ a few 
minutes ago, just as you were sending me away in 
order to receive another woman here, I put my 
arm around your neck and pricked you with a 
pin ; the point had been steeped in a deadly poison, 
which I brought from the East; it is a poison 
which paralyzes the body, and the only suffering 
it produces is that of the mind — the kind of 
suffering which you have long inflicted upon me, 
Mourad. When we were in Tunis you often told 
me that you loved none but me, and I believed 
you, and returned your love with passionate de- 
votion ; I had rivals — I knew it, and suffered in 
silence, for I was only a slave, and it was the cus- 
tom of our country ; but one night you came and 
said to me ^ I am going to burn down my palace, 
and drive away this troop of women, you only I 
will take with me to Europe, and you shall never 
leave me, for I love you alone ’ — my heart over- 
flowed with joy at those words, for now you 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


247 


would be my own at last; but alas, when we 
reached Paris my joy was turned to bitterness, for 
I discovered that I was nothing more to you than 
an accomplice. You made me useful to aid you, 
in your plans, and minister to your vanity. You 
made of my house a harem like that in Tunis — I 
am tired of suffering, Mourad, so I have killed you, 
although I love you still in spite of all, and my 
only thought now, is to die beside you !” 

He heard her, but he could not speak. The 
poison was coursing slowly through his veins. 
His face was contorted, the eyes were blood-shot, 
and the breath coming in quick gasps. 

The terrible sight had no terrors for Fatmah ; 
she drew from her hair a long pin with a golden 
head and a steel point, turned up the left sleeve of 
her tunic, and without hesitation plunged the pin 
into her arm. Then she drew a paper from her 
bosom and fastened it with the same pin to the 
silken cover of the divan. On the paper were 
the following words : 

“ I have killed my master and myself with this 
steel point, which is steeped in the "poisonous 

Ourarir 

Then she lay down at Mourad’s feet, and fixed 
her eyes upon his face watched him die, whilst 
awaiting her own death. 


FOR ms BROTHER'S SAKE. 


248 


CHAPTEE YIII. 

George de Bussine read an account in the eve- 
ning paper of the finding of the dead bodies of 
Mourad-Bey and his Circassian slave. At first he 
was filled with horror and despair, on reflecting 
that the beautiful object of his adoration was 
snatched away from him forever. For months he 
had had no thought for any one but her — he had 
lived and breathed for her alone ; even his brother 
and his daughter had been forgotten. For a time 
he seemed to have been stunned by the cruel blow, 
and then gradually his better nature began to 
assert itself, and he arose as if from a long sleep, 
and Avas able to see things in their true light. 
Fatmah Avas but a memory, and his neglected 
duties lay clear and distinct before him. He 
heard again his child’s reproaches and saw her 
tears, he thought of his brother in prison paying 
the penalty of his oAvn guilt, and he made a stern 
resolve to devote his life henceforth to reparation 
and self sacrifice. He rushed from his studio, 
Avent across the garden into the house, and up to 
his daughter’s room. It Avas empty — but he 
heard a slight noise in the adjoining chamber, and 
going toAvard the door, opened it softly and 
looked in. The sight that met his gaze made him 
think for an instant that the last five jedbYS had 


FOB ms BROTHER’S SAKE. 


240 


been a dream and that he was actually in the 
presence of his dying wife. Nothing in the room 
had changed since that last night when he came 
home after gambling away the money stolen from 
his brother’s safe. The furniture, the pictures, the 
hangings, were all the same, the two large candle- 
sticks stood on the mantel-piece and a dimly burn- 
ing night-light was on the table. . Beside the bed as 
before was his brother Lucian, who seemed plunged 
in grief, and on the bed lay a silent motionless 
form, and a pair of feverish eyes rested on his 
face. George de Bussine thought he saw Henri- 
ette before him, for there was the same expression 
in the eyes, and putting his hand to his forehead 
he made an effort to collect his senses. He did 
not venture nearer to the bed, but his brother 
rose, came towards him, and led him to Susanne, 
and kneehng by his daughter’s side he took her 
fevered hand in his and wept. After a few 
minutes, Lucian whispered : 

“ She cannot bear this, come with me.” 

The two men went into the next j*oom, where 
Lucian answered his brother’s anxious questions 
regarding Susanne’s illness. 

On leaving Mourad’s house she had found her 
way to that of Lionel Murdon, where in a short 
time she welcomed her uncle and his guide ; but 
wnen the first joy of the meeting was over, her 
strength succumbed to the long mental strain to 


250 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


which she had been subjected and the varied agita- 
tions of the last two days. Hitherto her eager- 
ness and strength of purpose had kept her up, but 
when her aim was accomplished, and she saw her 
uncle free once more, her nervous system gave 
way to the fever which had been consuming her 
strength. Lucian and Lionel were alarmed at 
seeing her flushed face and gleaming eyes, and 
wished her to go to bed at once, and on her 
entreating him to let her lie down on the bed in 
which her mother died, Lucian forgot all prudence, 
sent for a carriage and took her back to the house 
at Montmartre while Lionel hastened for a 
doctor. 

“We feared at first that it was brain-fever,” 
said Lucian, “ but her pulse is quieter now, and 
her teihperature not so high.” 

After a long pause George de Bussine asked his 
brother if he had been discharged from Melun, 
and when he heard of all that had occurred he 
trembled as he thought that his brother might 
yet be found and carried back to prison, but was 
somewhat reassured on being reminded that 
Lucian’s relationship with himself was entirely 
unknown. 

“ But did no one see you come into this house ?” 
he asked after a moment. 

“ Yes, your servant, but she mistook me for you, 
and has not yet found out her mistake/’ 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


251 


are certainly very much alike;” said 
George, looking at his brother thoughtfully; at 
least in outward appearance.” 

At that moment Susanne’s voice was heard 
calling feebly for her father. 

“ Go to her,” said George; ‘‘ it is you she wants, 
not me.” 

A week later the police made a raid on a low 
gambling house which had long been under 
surveillance. Among the persons arrested there 
was a middle-aged man with^ shaven face and 
short hair who gave his name as August Fisher, 
saying that he had just come from the country, 
but as his manners and accent were evidently 
Parisian, and he gave confused and contradictory 
answers to the questions put to him. He was look- 
ed upon with suspicion, and having assaulted and 
resisted one of the officers, was sent to police head- 
quarters. He had hardly entered the place when 
one of the Inspectors exclaimed: 

‘^"Why that is Lucian Lecomte who escaped 
last week from Melun.” 

He was afterwards confronted with Superintend-’ 
ant Poulard, who looked at him searchingly for 
several minutes, asked him a few questions, and 
then sent for the photograph of Lecomte, which ■ 
had been taken five years ago when he first en- 
tered Melun. A comparison of the picture with 
the supposed August Fisher established his identity 


252 


FOR ms BROTHERS SAKE. 


beyond a doubt, and he was condemned to 
'solitary confinement for three months. 


CHAPTEE IX. 

Lucian Lecomte and his niece had been living 
in London for six months with Mrs. Petite-homme 
as housekeeper, but Cornelius had remained in 
Paris, and profiting by the advice of Lucian, who 
was a member of the London Exchange, continu- 
ed to add to the riches in his strong box. 

Lionel Murdon came to the quiet little house in 
London every day, for Susanne had at last 
yielded to his unchanging devotion, aud the 
young people were engaged. Caesarina promised 
to buy herself a new gown to wear at the wed- 
ding, but it was thought that after the ceremony it 
would be put away carefully, and that Susanne 
would inherit it together with the two million 
francs. 

George de Bussine had not been heard of since 
a few days after his brother’s escape. The latter 
at last received information that one of the prison 
officials at Melun had said that Lucian Lecomte 
had been retaken a week after his escape, and be- 
ing put into a cell had become demented; he spent 
his time in playing imaginary games at baccarat^ 


mn ms BnomEU’s sakb. 


m 

moving his hands as if dealing cards, exclaiming 
occasionally, “stakes, gentlemen!” and weep- 
ing piteously over his supposed losses. 

Then Lucian knew that George had allowed 
himself to be mistaken for his brother, for the 
purpose of facilitating the latter’s escape from 
France, and of expiating his own guilt. After 
some delay, the harmless lunatic was released 
from prison, and brought to London, where the 
tender care of Lucian and Susanne gradually re- 
stored him to his senses, and he soon after died in 
his daughter’s arras. Meserean, the reformed 
sharper retired into the bosom of his family, as he 
had desired, but his fellow- workers continued to 
practise their profession for their own benefit 
only. 

As to Sivasti, he escaped from France soon 
after Mourad’s death, and returned to Tunis, 
where he opened a cafe and conducted a flourish-* 
ing business. 


THE END, 


Dli. CHASE’S KOYAL HEMEDIES. 


D/sease— Hello, Death, where are you 
bound with that coffin under your arm f 
Death — Oh, I am on my way to Mr. 
Someone’s house, a few blocks below here. 

Disease — Why you are too late, I was 
Chased out of there a few hours ago 
by Dr. Chase’s Royal Remedies, and they 
have no use for you . 

{Both Together)— \i the people continue 
to use these Royal Remedies as they 
have been there will be no business for 
you nor me either in a very short time. 

the above illustration and conversation represent and state a very import- 
ant fact, and if you or any of your friends wish to renew their health and re- 
move disease from the system, they cannot do better than to read the following 
list of remedies and then procure the one adapted to their case. Full directions 
for use accompany each box . 

The name of Dr. Chase has been for many years a household word in the 
home of every farmer, mechanic, and brain worker, not only in this country but 
throughout the v'hole world, and in offering his remedies we do not hesitate to 
say that they will have a very great claim to a favorable recommendation. 
We do not claim that we have but one medicine and that it will cure “all the 
ills that flesh is heir to ” but we do say that the following remedies, if used ac- 
cording to the directions which accompany every box, will do all that is claimed 
for them. Our confidence in them is so great that we will be pleased to refund 
the money in any case where they fail, where instructions are followed. 

The following are all put up m pill form, twenty pills to a box, making the 
cost per dose to the consumer very trifling. 



Remedy No. 1, Kidney Pill.— For 
Congestion and Inflammation of the 
Kidneys, Bright’s Disease, Irritation 
and Inflammation of the Bladder, all 
disorders of the Kidneys and Bladder. 
Price, 25 cents per box. 

Remedy No. 2, Cholera Pill.— For 
Diarrhoea, Dysentery, Cholera Morbus 
and Cholera*. Price, 25 cents per box. 

Remedy No. 8, Rheumatic Pill.— A 
certain cure for Rheumatism. Gout, 
Lumbago, and all pains in Muscles and 
Joints. Price, 25 cents per box. 

Remedy No. 4, Alterative Pill.— For 
ScofuJa. Salt-Rheum, Eczema, Ring- 
worm, Skin Eruptions, Syphilis and all 
diseases of the blood. Price, 25 cents 
per box. 

Remedy No. 6, Chase'Liver Pill.— A 
radical cure for Constipation, Bilious 
and Sick Headache, Colic and Torpid 
Liver. Those who once use this Liver 
Pill will use no other afterward . Price, 
26 cents per box. ■ 

Remedy No. 0, Dyspepsia Pill.— A 
specific for all forms or Acute and 
Chronic Dyspepsia. 25 cents per box. 


Remedy No. 7, Neurine Pill,— A 
Specific for' Neuralgia, Sciatica, Nerv- 
ous Headache, Toothache, Hysterical 
Spasms, Insomnia and Nervous Irrita- 
bility. Price 25 cents per box. 

Remedy No. 8, Tonic Pill for Women. 
—A never failing remedy for all diseases 
and weaknesses peculiar to women. 
Price, 25 cents per box . 

Remedy No. 9, Malaria Pill.— A cure 
for Chills, Fever and Ague, Dumb 
Ague, Bilious and Malarial Fevers. 
This Pill can be used in place of 
Quinine, and will certainly cure all 
Malarial Disorders, without any of the 
injurious or unpleasant effects of 
Quinine. Price, 25 cents per box. 

Remedy No. 10, Private Tonic Pills. 
— A radical cure for nervous debility, 
general prostration, loss of manhood, 
private complaints, etc. This is the 
only remedy that can be used with a 
certainty of producing immediate bene- 
ficial results in the cases in which it 
is recommended. (This prescription 
usually costs $1.50 at any pharmacy ) 
Price, 50 cents per box. 


These remedies may be ordered by the number if desired, indeed it is one of 
the best methods of ordering, then there can be no mistake. For sale by all 
druggists. Ask for Dr. Chase’s Royal Remedies, giving the number you desire, or 
send to us direct and we will fill all orders by return mail. Agents loanted to 
whom tve offer liberal terms. 

Send money by Postal Note, Money Order, Check or Draft. One cent post- 
age stamps will be takp for siuns under fifty cents . All of these Remedies will 
be sent by mail securely sealed. Address orders and remittances to 

DR. CHASE’S REMEDIES, 

57 Rose street, New York. 


P. O. Box, S767 


THE SCIENCE OF A NEW LIFE. 

BY JOHK COWAN, M. D. 

A Book Well Worth Possessing by Every Thoughtful ^ 
Man and Woman. 

Twe ** Sclenca af a New Life ” has received the highest testimonial* aivJ cem- 
mentfatioiis from leading medical and religious critics; has been heartily endorsed 
fcj all the leading philanthropists, and recommended to every well-wisher of the 
hnman race. 

TO ALL WHO ABE MARBLED 

are contemplating marriage, it will give information worth HUNDREDS OP 
DOLLARS, besides conferring a lasting henefit, not onlv upon them, but upon 
their children. Every thinking man and woman should study this work. Any 
nerson. desiring to know more about the book before purchasing it, may send t© ua 
for our 16-i)age descriptive circular, giving full and complete table of contents. 
It will be seiit free by mail to any address. Tho following la the table ©f con- 
tents. 

Marriage and its advantages; Age at which to marry; The Law of choic^ Love 
Analyzed; CJualities the Man Should Avoid in Choosing; Oualitie* the Woman 
Should Avoid in Choosing; The Anatomy and Physiology of Generation in Wo- 
men; Tho Anatomy and Physlolo^ of Generation in Man; Amatlvenes* — it* 
Use and Ahino; The Prevention of Conception; The Law of Continence; Children 
— Their Desirability; The Law of Genius; The Conception of a New Life; The 
Physiology of Inter-Uterine Growth; Period of Qestative Influence; Pregnancy; 
— Its Signs and Duration; Disorders of Pre^ancy; Confinement; Management or 
M®th*r and Child after Delive^; Period of Nursing Influence; Foeticide; Diaeaaes 
Peculiar to Women; Diseases Peculiar to Men; :^msturbation; Sterility; and Im- 

E oteace; Subject* of which More Might be Said; A Happy Married Life — Sow 
ecured. 

The book is a handsome 8VO, and contains over 400 PAGES, with moret^n 
100 ILLUSTRATIONS, and is sold at the following PRICES— ENGLISH CLOTH, 
BEVELED BOARDS. GILT SIDE AND BACK, p.OO; LEATHER, SPRINKLED 
EDGES, S3.B0; HALF TURKEY MOROCCO, MARBLED EDGES, GILT BACA, 
J4.00. Sent by mail, post-paid, to any address, oh receipt of prico. 

COMMENDATIONS. 

“In a careful examination of Dr. Cowan’* SCIENCE OP A NEW LIFE, I 
am prepared to give it my very cordial approval. It deserves to be in every famli'', 
and read and pondered, as closely relating to the highest moral and physical well- 

belHff of all its member* The essential remedy for these 

great evils is to bo found in Dr. Cowan’s work; therefore, may it b* circulated for 
and wide.” William Llqtd Gabkisok. 

“ As it Is easier to generate a race of healthy men and women than to regenerate 
the diseased and discordant humanity we now have, I heartily recommend the study 
of THE SCIENCE OF A NEW LIFE to every father and mother in the land.” 

Elizabeth Cady Stakton. 

“ It eeeme to us to be one of the wisest, and purest, and most helpful of those 
Books which have been written in recent years, with the intention of teaching 
Men and Women the Truths about their Bodies, which are of peculiar importante 

to the morals of Society No one can begin to imagine the misery that 

has come upon the human family solely through ignorance upon this subject.^’ 

Thb Chbistian UNierr. 

If, after reading the above, you wish to get a copy of the book, send us the 
money by Poet-Ofllce order or registered letter, and we will send it by return mail. 

Agents wanted to whom we offer liberal terms. Send to us at once for oux 
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V. O. BOX S767- BOSX SXBJBJST, XBW XOBK., 


I 



THE SCIENCE OF A NEW LIFE. 

BY JOHN COWAN, M. D. 

A Book Well Worth Possessing by Every Thonghtfol 
Man and Woman. 

Thb Science of a New Life ” has received the highest testimonials and com- 
•rendations from leading medical and religious critics; has been heartily endorsed 
by all the leading philanthropists, and recommended to every well-wisher of the 
human race. 

TO ALL WHO ABE MARRIED 

Or are contemplating marriage, it will give information worth HUNDREDS OP 
DOLLARS, besides conferring a lasting benefit, not onlv upon them, but upon 
their children. Every thinking man and woman should study this work. Any 

f ierson desiring to know more about the book before purchasing it, may send to us 
or our 16-page descriptive circular, giving full and complete table of contents. 
It will be sent free by mail to any address. The following is the table of con* 
tents. 

Marriage and its advantages; Age at which to marry; Tlie Law of choice; Love 
Analyzed; the Man Should Avoid in Choosing; Qualities the Woman 

Should Avoid in Choosing; The Anatomy and Physiology of Generation in Wo- 
men; The Anatomy and Physiology of Generation in Man; Amativeness — its 
Use and Abuse; The Prevention of Conception; The Law of Continence; Children 
— Their Desirability; The Law of Genius; The Conception of a New Life; The 
Physiology of Inter-Uterine Growth; Period of Gestative Influence; Pregnancy: 
— Its Signs and Duration; Disorders of Pregnancy; Confinement; Management or 
Mother and Child after Delivery; Period of Nursing Influence; Foeticide; Diseases 
Peculiar to Women; Diseases Peculiar to Men; INlasturbation; Sterility; and Im- 
potence; Subjects of which More Might be Said; A Happy Married Life — How 
Secured. 

The book is a handsome 8VO, and contains over 400 PAGES, with more than 
100 ILLUSTRATIONS, and is sold at the following PRICES— ENGLISH CLOTH, 
BEVELED BOARDS, GILT SIDE AND BACK, $3.00; LEATHER, SPRINKLED 
EDGES, $3.50; HALF TURKEY MOROCCO, MARBLED EDGES, GILT BACK, 
$4 .00. Sent by mail, post-paid, to any address, on receipt of price. 

COMMENDATIONS. 

“In a careful examination of Dr. Cowan’s SCIENCE OP A NEW LIFE, I 
am prepared to give it my very cordial approval. It deserves to be in every family, 
and read and pondered, as closely relating to the highest moral apd physical well- 

being of all its members The essential remedy for these 

great evils is to be found in Dr. Cowan’s work; therefore, may it be circulated far 
and wide.” WinniAM Lloyd Garrison. 

“ As it is easier to generate a race of healthy men and women than to regenerate 
the diseased and discordant humanity we now have, I heartily recommend the study 
of THE SCIENCE OF A NEW LIFE to every father and mother in the land.” 

Elizabeth Cady Stanton. 

“ It seems to us to be one of the wisest, and purest, and most helpfnl of those 
Books which have been written in recent years, witn the intention of teaching 
Men and Women the Truths about their Bodies, which are of peculiar importance 

to the morals of Society No one can begin to imagine the misery that 

kas come upon the human family solely through ignorance upon this subject.” 

Thb Christian Union. 

If, after reading the above, you wish to get a copy of the book, send us the 
money by Post-office order or registered letter, and we will send it by return mail. 

Agents wanted to whom we offer liberal terms. Send to us at once for our 
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Address all orders and applications for an agency to i 

J. S. OGILTIE Publisher , 

9. 9. BOX 9767- BOSS SXBBBX, BMW SOBK. 


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